The Wistful Silence
The bell in the tower of St. Jude’s did not ring. It shattered. You were standing in the nave when it happened. The bronze tongue, suspended for three centuries, gave way to its own weight and gravity. It did not fall with a crash. It fell with a sigh. A long, metallic exhalation that seemed to drain the air from your lungs. The sound was not loud. It was heavy. It sat in your chest like a...
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