The Golden Quest
You step off the train at a station that smells of rust and wet wool. The air is cold. It bites at your lungs. You are holding a small, worn leather bag. Inside it is a single book. It is your mother’s book. The spine is cracked. The pages are soft as skin. You have carried it for six years. Six years of trains. Six years of silence. The house is waiting for you. It sits on a hill above the...
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