The Golden Crossing
The fog came in thick as wool. It swallowed the wharf. It swallowed the streetlamps. It swallowed you. You stood at the edge of the pier. Your boots sank into the wet wood. The rain was cold. It bit your skin. You were a man of order. You were a man of law. You wore the badge on your chest. It was heavy. It was gold. It was warm. Your father had given it to you. Not the gold. The silence. He...
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