The Golden Myth
The bell of St. Jude’s did not ring so much as it screamed, a jagged tear in the fabric of the morning that sent the pigeons from the gable scattering in a violent, iridescent cloud, while the heavy oak doors of the sanctuary, which had stood silent and watchful for three centuries against the salt air of the coast, burst open with a force that splintered the threshold and filled the nave with...
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