The Golden Quest
I woke with the taste of iron and river silt thick on my tongue, the dream of the water still clinging to the sheets, cold and dark and endless. It was the same dream it had always been, the one where I was not a man but a current, swirling in the black depths of the Ohio, carrying things that did not belong to the river. I sat up in the narrow cot of my trailer, the springs creaking in a...
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