The Golden Visit
The elm tree in the center of the village square was dying, and everyone knew it, though no one spoke of the cause with the precision it deserved. It was a slow rot, a sickness of the wood that spread from the roots upward, turning the leaves into brittle, brown fragments that fell like ash on the cobblestones. Elias Thorne sat on the bench beneath its canopy, his hands resting on the thick,...
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