The Golden Quest
The road out of Ashworth was not a road so much as a scar in the earth, a pale, dusty vein that pulsed with the slow, grinding rhythm of the cart wheels beneath Margaret’s feet as she walked, her hands wrapped tight around the wooden handle, the bark splintering under the strain of her grip and the weight of the basket strapped to her back. The air tasted of iron and dry grass, a metallic tang...
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