The Pale Altar

added blog Literature

2026-08-18 07:52:03 -

The Pale Altar

The church fell on a Tuesday. It happened at noon. The bell, which had rung for centuries to call the sheep to the fold, cracked first. A sound like a bone snapping. Then the steeple groaned. It twisted in the wind, a black spire against a white sky, and slid down the north face. The stone did not shatter. It crumbled. It turned to dust before it hit the ground. Thomas was watching. He stood in...

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