The Distant Journey
"Do you know what a soul tastes like, Doctor?" It was the first thing Lord Blackwood said when he entered the garden. He did not look at Thomas. He looked at the air. He looked at the dust motes dancing in the shaft of late afternoon light. Thomas did not answer. He kept his eyes on the row of foxgloves. His hands were dirty. There was soil under his fingernails. He had been there for three...
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