The Golden Mirror
The watch is gone. You wake on the cold floor of the guest room, the air thick with the scent of old paper and damp wool, and your first thought is not for the dream but for the absence on your wrist. It is a heavy, brass-cased piece, a thing of weight and history, passed down through your father to you, its face cracked like dried earth, its hands frozen at the moment of your enlistment. In...
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