The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-25 14:07:50 -

The Distant Wound

You are holding a hammer. The head is cold iron, heavy in your grip. The handle is wet with your sweat. You are Silas. You are thirty-four. You are the Warden of Oakhaven. The hammer is raised. The man below you is stone. Not dead. Not yet. But the grey has crept past his lips. His eyes are open. They are white and dry. He looks at you. You do not look back. You swing. The crack is sharp. A...

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