The Golden Quest
The coal chute collapses. It is a Tuesday. Rain slicks the cobblestones. The sky is the color of wet slate. You stand in the alley. The brickwork groans. Dust falls. It tastes of iron and rot. You are Thomas. You are a cobbler. Your hands are stained with wax and hide. You watch the wall fall. It does not fall on you. It falls on the shop next door. The shop of Mr. Abernathy. Abernathy is gone....
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