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A Kind of Quickening

Put your ear to the quoins. You might think a redundant church would be loud with the sound of silence, but sacred cantatas rise to the spandrels. Look through the squint. St. Mary-at-the-Quay in her field of windscreens, where crane-drivers glide over the hammerbeams as if sighting eternity seawards. Smell the mown grass in the […]

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