The Golden Quest
The rain has not stopped for three days, a steady, gray curtain that blurs the edges of the world outside the high, vaulted windows of the Abbey of St. Jude, where you sit in the corner of the refectory, your knees drawn up to your chest, watching the water bead and slide down the glass in slow, deliberate tracks that look like tears on the face of a giant. You are seven years old, or perhaps...
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