The Distant Summer
The rain had been falling for three days, turning the courtyard of St. Jude’s into a shallow, gray lake that reflected the heavy stone walls and the weeping willows. I sat on the damp flagstones, my back against the cold masonry, and watched the water drip from the eaves in a steady, rhythmic pulse. It was a sound that had become the heartbeat of my life, a metronome counting down the hours I...
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