The Faded Alibi
The rain had not stopped for three days, a persistent, gray weeping that turned the cobblestones of the valley floor into slick mirrors reflecting the low, bruised sky, and in the small, stone-walled church of St. Jude’s, Brother Thomas sat alone with his hands resting on the back of his wooden chair, feeling the dampness of the world seep into the marrow of his bones, a sensation that was less...
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