The Wistful Witness

added blog Literature

2026-08-22 14:22:27 -

The rain fell in sheets, turning the courtyard of the Abbey of St. Jude into a mirror of mud and stone. Eamon stood beneath the eaves, his fingers white-knuckled around a rusted iron key, the metal biting into his palm. He was forty-two, though the hollows in his cheeks made him look older, a man eroded by the same force that had eroded the abbey walls. In his other hand, he held nothing, but...

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