The Golden Visit
The bell rang at dawn. It was a low, heavy sound. It vibrated in the marrow of Thomas’s bones. He sat on the cold stone floor. The damp seeped into his wool trousers. He did not move. He watched the dust motes dance in the single shaft of light. The light came from a high, narrow window. Outside, the rain hammered the slate roof. Inside, the silence was thick. It pressed against his ears. He...
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