The Golden Oath
The brass fastener on my father’s coat had tarnished to the color of dried blood, a small, dark eye that watched over us from the collar. It was a heavy piece of metal, cold to the touch even in the summer heat, and for twenty years it had been the only thing in our house that did not change. My father, Silas, wore the coat every day. It was a garment of the old world, thick wool and leather,...
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