The Golden Maze
The mud is thick. It sucks at your boots. You feel it pulling, a cold, wet mouth trying to swallow your legs whole. You stop. You look up. The forest is dark. The branches are like bones. You are alone. You have been walking for three days. Your back aches. Your stomach is a hollow drum. You carry the jar. It is heavy. It is cold. You can feel the vibration of the liquid inside. It hums against...
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