The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-19 02:28:59 -

The coat was the only thing of value I had left when I left the house on the hill, a heavy thing of charcoal wool that had belonged to my father, and then to my brother, and finally to me, though it had never truly fit any of us, hanging like a shroud that refused to settle on the shoulders of the living. It was a garment of transformation, or so I had believed in the fever of my departure, a...

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