The Distant Legend
The rain hammered the flagstones of the courtyard, a relentless drumming that soaked Elias to the bone. He stood before the central arch of the Abbey of St. Jude, his chisel frozen mid-stroke, the iron tip biting into the limestone. His hand trembled. It was a fine, high-frequency shake, a palsy that had crept into his knuckles over the last three winters. He wanted to finish the keystone...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews