The Faded Road
The stone was cold. It bit into my knuckles as I pressed my face against the gate. I could feel the dampness seeping into my skin, a chill that had nothing to do with the autumn air. The iron bars were thick, black with age and rust. They looked like the ribs of a great beast, caged and broken. "Is he there?" I whispered. My voice sounded thin, swallowed by the stone walls. A shadow moved...
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