The Golden Compass
The house held its breath, a vast, wooden lung expanding and contracting with the rhythm of the wind that scoured the hills outside, and within that silence, a dream took root, a dream of gold not as a metal but as a fluid, a living thing that seeped through the cracks of the floorboards and pooled around the ankles of the man who lay awake, staring at the ceiling where the shadows danced like...
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