The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-18 12:16:58 -

The house was dying, and I was the only one who heard its groans. It stood on the hill above the village, a rotting monument to an age of coal and iron that had passed into myth, its timber bones warped by decades of damp and neglect. I had returned to inherit it, or so the lawyer claimed, though I felt less like an heir and more like a scavenger picking through the carcass of my own history....

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