The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-19 05:01:23 -

The Golden Mirror

The bus had stopped breathing. That was the only way to describe it. It sat in the middle of the gravel shoulder, its engine tickling the cooling air, its headlights cutting two pale cones into the thick, wet fog that rolled off the lake. Inside, the air smelled of damp wool and stale coffee. I kept my hands in my pockets, feeling the rough edge of the stone I’d pulled from the bank earlier. A...

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