The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-19 20:19:38 -

The bread was warm. It smelled of yeast and earth, a heavy, sweet scent that hung in the air of the stone kitchen like a fog. I sat at the table, my hands resting on the wood, watching the steam rise. It was a simple loaf, round and pale, but to me, it looked like a moon trapped in dough. My wife, Elara, stood by the hearth. She did not look at me. She was kneading a new batch, her arms moving...

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