The Distant Nightmare
The bell of St. Jude’s tolled the hour of vespers, a low, resonant thrum that seemed to vibrate in the marrow of the stones rather than merely in the air, and it was in this deepening twilight that the fracture in the great stained-glass window was first noticed, not by the faithful, but by the dust motes that danced in the sudden, unbidden shaft of grey light. Elias Thorne, the archivist of...
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