The Golden Maze
The rain fell in sheets that turned the mud of the road into a churning, sucking bog, a brown slurry that seemed to possess a will of its own, dragging at the hooves of our horses and the boots of the men who followed, a relentless, grey curtain that erased the horizon and reduced the world to the three yards of wet earth immediately before us, a suffocating intimacy that pressed against the...
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