The Golden Visit
The air in the cellar was thick with the scent of damp earth and ancient decay, a smell that seemed to seep into the very fibers of your clothing and lodge itself in the back of your throat, heavy and sweet like overripe fruit left too long in the sun. You stood there, in the dim glow of a single tallow candle that flickered and sputtered against the stone walls, holding a bowl of porridge that...
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