The Distant Threshold

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2026-08-21 23:12:42 -

The feast was not a celebration but a sacrament of consumption, held in the hollowed-out nave of a church that had forgotten its God and remembered only the weight of stone and the hunger of the living. The tables stretched from the altar, now draped in burlap, to the cracked threshold where the rain had finally seeped in, mixing the smell of wet wool and roasted meat with the pervasive,...

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