The Golden Circuit
The road was long. It was also dark. We walked in silence. My father held the lantern. I held his hand. My fingers were small. His were rough. The stone under our feet was cold. The air smelled of wet earth. And iron. We were going to the Palace. It was midday. The sun was high. It shone on the white walls. The walls were tall. They went up to the sky. They blocked out the light. We were in the...
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