The Distant Wound
"NOTICE OF SURVEY. The parcel known as the High Ground is slated for assessment. Tenant to vacate within ten days." The paper was thin, the ink dry and grey. Selam Mrisho held it against the rough wood of the market stall, his thumb pressing the edge of the certified collection notice until the skin whitened. Around him, the night market hummed with the friction of commerce, the clatter of...
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