The Golden Song
The lantern was not merely a tool; it was the only thing in the world that had not forgotten how to be good. It hung from the iron hook of the carriage by a chain so fine it seemed spun from the morning mist, and within its glass belly, the flame did not flicker. It burned with a steady, golden patience, a heart that refused to break even as the wheels of the carriage rattled over the broken...
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