The Distant Journey
The bell is cracked. You hold it. The bronze is cold. It smells of rust and old rain. You are in the Tower of St. Jude. The stones are wet. The wind screams. You are not here. You are far away. You are in a land that does not exist. This is the first day. You climbed for hours. The air thins. Your lungs burn. The mountain is a beast. It breathes. The clouds are low. They touch your face. They...
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