The Golden Myth
The town of Oakhaven did not sleep so much as it held its breath, a long, suspended inhalation that stretched from the first gray light of dawn until the moon hung low and heavy over the slate roofs. In the center of the main square, beneath the ancient oak that had witnessed the town’s founding, stood the statue of Colonel Silas Vane. It was not a monument to a man of flesh, but to a symbol,...
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