The Distant Temple
Act I Did the bronze hand move when I moved, or did it only think it did? I asked Mr. Kowalski, the caretaker of the closed school, but he was scrubbing the linoleum with the second-best mop he owned, a tool with a broken handle taped together with wire. He didn’t look up. He just said, "It’s the cold, Marianna. Cold makes metal look like it’s breathing." I was thirty-four and a junior...
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