The Distant Whispers
The bell did not ring. It broke. A sound like a rib snapping under a boot. Then silence. You are standing in the nave. The air is thick with dust and the smell of wet stone. Your hands are shaking. You look down. You are holding the fragment. It is cold. It is jagged. It cuts your palm. The glass is shattered. Not just the bell. The windows. All of them. Light pours in. It is not sunlight. It...
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