The Wistful Crossroads
The gate is iron. It is rusted. It is the boundary. You stand before it. The metal is cold. It bites your skin. You wear gloves. They are leather. They are thin. You can feel the teeth of the world through them. Behind the gate is the path. The path is straight. It is paved. It is clean. It is the line between here and there. It is the line between right and wrong. It is the line between you...
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