The Glass Beacon
The Glass Beacon The radio crackled like distant thunder, and Mal adjusted the dial until the static parted and a voice emerged—thin, wavering, but unmistakably human. "—anyone hear me? This is Brother Thomas at the Mount Zion Baptist, Sunday morning service, and the Lord is—" Mal turned the volume down. He did not need to hear another sermon. He needed to hear what was underneath the...
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