The Wistful Incense
The air in the basement of the St. Jude’s Community Center did not smell of dust or damp concrete, as one might expect of a forgotten space beneath a church, but rather of a thick, cloying sweetness that seemed to hang in the stagnant atmosphere like a visible fog, a heavy curtain of vanilla and burnt sugar that coated the back of the throat and made the lungs feel as though they were being...
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