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by
K.J. Charles
Read between
February 19 - February 22, 2019
Two magpies perched on a twisted branch, one bowing to the other, a glittering ring in its beak.
Clem couldn’t be angry about because he couldn’t take the risk. He’d spent his life carefully not looking into an abyss of rage like the pit of hellfire he’d so often been told awaited pagans, because if he ever really looked, he feared he might be angry forever.