The Golden Quest
The road was red. It was wet. It tasted of iron. I walked. My legs were heavy. The mud sucked at my boots. *Thwack. Thwack.* The sound was loud. It was the only sound. I carried the box. It was small. It was made of oak. It was old. The wood was gray. It was worn smooth. My hands were wrapped around it. My knuckles were white. I could feel the heat inside. It pulsed. It beat. Like a heart. Like...
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