The Distant Ghost

added blog Literature

2026-08-19 18:44:03 -

The Distant Ghost

The bell in the tower of St. Jude’s rang not for the hour, but for the breath. It was a low, mournful toll that vibrated in the marrow of Eamon’s hands. He stood at the workbench, the smell of tallow and old wax thick in the air. His fingers, stained black with soot and years of labor, moved with a precision that had become second nature. He was shaping a censer. The brass was cool, yet it held...

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