The Golden Farce

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2026-08-19 12:04:14 -

The Golden Farce

The rain had stopped an hour ago, but the streetlights still bled into the wet asphalt, turning the city into a smear of amber and gray. I stood on the corner of Fifth and Main, watching the traffic crawl by. My hand rested on the doorframe. It was a small, solid piece of oak, darkened by years of thumbs and coats. I knew the grain of it. I knew where the wood had split in the winter of '94 and...

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