The Distant Affair
The feast of St. Jude was a riot of roasted pork and spilled wine, a chaotic sprawl of tallow candles and sweat-slicked brows in the vaulted stone hall of the Abbey, where the air hung heavy with the smell of burning fat and the damp, mineral scent of the ancient walls. You stood at the periphery, your fingers gripping the rough-hewn oak of the high table until the knuckles whitened, watching...
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