The Golden Suspect

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 18:39:59 -

The rain fell like iron filings. It did not wash the town. It stained it. I stood at the edge of the mud. My father was gone. The police said he was a suspect. I said he was my father. They did not listen. They look at me with cold eyes. I look at them with old eyes. The golden larches were broken. They lay in the ditch like shattered crowns. I chased the leaves. I ran through the sleet. My...

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