The Distant Affair
The rain had been falling for three days, a persistent, gray curtain that blurred the edges of the world against the high, narrow windows of the Abbey. You stood in the refectory, your hands trembling slightly as you held the chipped ceramic bowl, the glaze worn smooth by decades of use. The porridge inside was thick, cold, and laced with the sharp, medicinal bitterness of the herbal tincture...
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