The Golden Quest
The rain hammered against the stained glass of the community center, a rhythmic, violent drumming that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards and into your shoes. You stood by the punch bowl, holding a plastic cup of lemonade that had gone flat an hour ago. The air smelled of damp wool, cheap perfume, and the sweet, cloying scent of the fruit platters that no one was eating. Around you, the...
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