The Golden Oath
The bread broke with a sound like a dry twig snapping under a boot. It was not a clean break. The crust, golden and thick with yeast, gave way unevenly, spraying a fine dust of flour into the sterile, recycled air of the breakroom. Elias watched the two halves separate, the crumb structure exposed, white and dense. He did not pick up a piece. He simply stared at the fracture line, that jagged...
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