The Faded Photograph
The bell tower shook. Dust rained from the beams. Miles stood in the center of the nave. The stone floor cracked beneath his boots. He was not a man of God. He was a man of stone. And stone was breaking. The light was failing. The candles had died an hour ago. Now only the pale, sickly glow of the moon came through the shattered windows. It painted the floor in blue and grey. Miles felt the...
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