The Distant Temple
The orchard in the basement had not been watered in three days, and the air tasted of damp earth and old copper. I stood before the glass case, watching the roots of the pear tree twist in the dark soil, a pale, ghostly knot of life suspended in the gloom. It was a beautiful thing, in a way that made my stomach turn. Beautiful, and wrong. "Your father was a man of great conviction," said Dr....
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