The Golden Quest
The soup was cold. That was the first thing. Not the taste, not the smell of boiled cabbage and old grease, but the temperature. It sat in the white styrofoam container on the metal tray, congealing into a thick, gelatinous mass. Elias stared at it. He did not eat. He simply watched the light bounce off the surface, a dull, gray sheen that reminded him of the sky back home. Or maybe it reminded...
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