The Pale Meridian
The bell tower of Saint Jude’s stands like a broken tooth against the gray sky of the valley, its stone face cracked down the center, leaking moss and rainwater into the silence below. You stand in the shadow of its base, your hands resting on the rough, cold masonry, feeling the vibration of the wind through the rock as if it were a living thing breathing. You are a mason, or you were, before...
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