The Golden Visit

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2026-08-20 07:41:49 -

The Golden Visit

The iron gates of the city did not so much open as they sighed, a heavy, metallic exhalation that smelled of rust and ancient rain, admitting me into the labyrinthine streets of Ostrava, a place where the fog did not merely hang in the air but sat upon the shoulders of the buildings like a shroud woven from the breath of the dead. I had traveled for three weeks to reach this threshold, my hands...

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