The Distant Crown

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2026-08-18 15:46:20 -

The Distant Crown

The fog had swallowed the valley by dawn. It sat thick and white, a held breath against the cold iron of the locomotive. Thomas Bradshaw pressed his face to the glass. The wood he carried was oak, seasoned and dark, destined for the new cathedral in St. Jude’s. It was a good job. A noble one. He had spent twenty years shaping splinters into saints, and this was his final commission. His hands,...

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