The Burning of the Book House
The church had no roof. It had not had a roof since the war, and it had not had a congregation since before that. But the walls still stood—thick walls of gray brick, stained with water marks and the dark scorch of fires that had been lit in the yard and left to burn until there was nothing left but ash. Isaiah Crowe stood in the doorway and looked at the interior. The floor was dirt, packed...
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