The Empty Pew

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2026-05-31 10:01:26 -

The Empty Pew

The fog came in off the moors at four o'clock in November, thick as wool, pressing against the windowpanes of the rectory until the room beyond the glass ceased to exist. Thomas Ashworth sat at his desk with a cup of tea growing cold beside his left hand, and a letter from Oxford open in front of him. The letter was from Julian. It was three pages long. It contained no insult, no anger, not...

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