The Pale Meridian
The bell tower of St. Jude’s had stood as a silent judge over the valley for three centuries, its stone face weathered by the wind and the rain until it looked less like a man-made structure and more like a jagged tooth of the earth itself. I have spent the last forty years studying its foundations, mapping the cracks that run through the mortar like veins of dried blood, and I can tell you...
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