The Wistful Incense
The incense had been burning for three days, and the scent, which began as a sharp, medicinal bite of camphor and dried sage, had now softened into a heavy, cloying sweetness that sat in the back of my throat like a stone I could not swallow. "Do you feel it, Brother Thomas?" the prior asked, his voice thin and reedy, drifting across the stone floor of the scriptorium where the air was thick...
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