The Golden Quest
The rain had not stopped for three days, turning the red clay of the Appalachian foothills into a thick, sucking sludge that held the boots of anyone foolish enough to walk the old logging roads, and I was walking, my left ankle swollen and throbbing with a dull, rhythmic ache that matched the drumming of the water against my poncho, carrying a duffel bag that felt heavier with every step...
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