The Distant Crown
You dream of the stone. It is not a dream of flight, but of weight. You are standing in the nave of St. Jude’s, the air thick with the scent of wet wool and old incense. The light does not come from the stained glass; it comes from the floor. You look down and see your own reflection, but it is not your face that stares back. It is a crown of thorns woven from the flagstones. You understand, in...
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