The Golden Scar
The house was a skeleton of white stucco and shattered glass, standing on the hill like a tooth pulled from a rotting jaw. I stood in the driveway, my boots sinking into the mud that had turned to clay in the three days of rain, and watched the wind peel a sheet of corrugated metal from the eaves. It clattered against the pavement, a sound like a bone breaking. The perimeter was sealed off by...
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