The Golden Visit
The rain hit the window of the small shop with a sound like static. Elias stood by the counter, wiping a smudge from the glass. He was a man of short sentences and shorter patience. The shop smelled of dust and old paper. It smelled of things that should have been forgotten. A knock came at the door. Three raps. Sharp. Deliberate. Elias did not move. His hands trembled. He looked at the clock....
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