The Distant Crown
The river did not care for our dignity. It swirled around the shattered hull of the *Hesperus* with a cold, mechanical indifference that felt like a personal insult, the black water churning against the mud flats of the industrial delta where the smokestacks of the foundry cast long, jagged shadows across the dying afternoon. I stood on the embankment, my boots sinking into the silt, watching...
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