The Golden Song

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2026-08-17 18:34:20 -

The Golden Song

The train moved north through the gray, heavy air. I pressed my forehead against the cold glass. The glass did not care. It was a barrier. It was also a mirror. I saw my own face in it. The face was pale. The face was thin. It was a scholar’s face. It was a face that had forgotten how to eat. I was going to the Institute. It was a place of study. It was a place of silence. It was a place where...

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