The Distant Wound

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2026-08-23 18:24:25 -

The Distant Wound

The pen was heavy in my hand, its brass clip cold against my thumb, a small, metallic weight that felt like a promise I had already broken. I stared at the signature line on the form, the ink glistening in the sterile fluorescent light of the Ministry of Memory, and the dream refused to let go of me. In the dream, my own handwriting was carved into my skin, the letters deep and black, a script...

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