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“He wasn’t sure if it was the matrix of light and shadow, but the gravedigger was almost certain that a black mass of mould pulsed ever so slightly inside the fissure, a dying pockmarked blackened heart.” — Jonathan Dunne
He wasn’t sure if it was the matrix of light and shadow, but the gravedigger was almost certain that a black mass of mould pulsed ever so slightly inside the fissure, a dying pockmarked blackened heart.