The Faded Sutra
Act I Did you think, in your arrogance, that a broth could hold the weight of a man’s soul? I ask this because I remember the light, that specific, failing winter light that fell across the floorboards of the mission infirmary, turning the dust into a suspended galaxy of grey. It was the summer the wells failed, a fact the parish ignored while the water turned brown and thick in the cisterns,...
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