The Distant Garden
The bell in the tower of St. Jude’s did not ring so much as it convulsed, a great iron lung filling and emptying with a sound that was less a tone than a physical blow against the eardrums, shattering the glass of the church windows and sending a glittering, lethal rain across the cobblestones of the market square where you stood, clutching the heavy, cold iron key to your chest as if it were a...
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