The Distant Summer
The bell tolled for the third time. It hung in the iron tower, heavy and black against the pale sky. Margaret struck the iron. The sound rang out, sharp and cold. It cut the air. It cut the silence. She did not look up. She did not look at the crowd below. They were small. They were many. They were waiting for her to fail. They were waiting for her to speak. Margaret stood on the balcony. The...
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