The Golden Quest
The bell of the Parish of St. Jude tolled not for the dead, but for the living who were slowly, invisibly, being devoured by the stone, a low, resonant hum that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of my bones, in the hollows of my teeth, in the soft, yielding flesh of my belly where the hunger had long since ceased to be a physical sensation and had become instead a spiritual architecture, a cage...
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