The Distant Promise
The bell in the tower does not ring for hours. It is silent. You know this because you have been counting the seconds for three days. The silence is heavy. It presses against your eardrums. It tastes like copper and dust. You are in the basement of St. Jude’s Orphanage. The stone walls are wet. The air is cold. You are a boy of twelve, or perhaps thirteen. You do not remember. Time has become a...
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