The Wistful Incense

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2026-08-20 03:24:44 -

The bell tower stood like a broken tooth against the grey sky, its stone face pitted by centuries of rain and wind. I remember the weight of my small hands on the rope, the roughness of the hemp biting into my palms, a pain that was sharp and clear and entirely my own. I was twelve then, or perhaps thirteen, the age where the world is too large for the body that holds it. My brother, Julian,...

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