The Golden Cellar
The river did not care for the opinions of the men who lived on its banks, nor did it concern itself with the intricate, rusted mechanisms of the locks that attempted to tame its flow. It simply was, a vast, indifferent expanse of grey-green water that had outlasted the stone walls of the mill town and would outlast the bones of the men who built them. It was a natural monument, eternal and...
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