The Distant Threshold
The bell tolled. It was a low sound. It shook the dust. It shook the bones. Thomas stood still. He held the chain. The chain was cold. It bit his palm. He did not let go. The stone was wet. The stone was old. The stone remembered. It remembered blood. It remembered prayer. It remembered fear. Thomas looked up. The window was high. The sky was gray. The sky was dead. He felt the cold. The cold...
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