The Golden Echoes
The train rattled across the bridge, a metallic shudder that traveled up through the soles of my shoes and settled in my molars, a constant, low-frequency hum that seemed to vibrate the very air of the carriage. I was holding my briefcase with both hands, knuckles white, the leather handle worn smooth by years of friction, a testament to the silent, grinding labor of a life spent in transit...
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