The Distant Summer
The morning bell rang in the stone courtyard, a sound so deep and resonant it seemed to vibrate in the marrow of Thomas’s bones. He stood by the window of his small, windowless cell, watching the dust motes dance in the single shaft of pale light that cut through the high arch. The air smelled of damp limestone and old sweat, a scent that had become as familiar to him as his own skin. Across...
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