The Golden Harbor
The storm broke the dam at dawn, a sudden, violent exhalation that swallowed the valley in a wall of brown, churning water. You did not wake to the sound of the sirens, which had long since died in the mud, but to the cold. It was a wet, biting cold that seeped through the floorboards of the cellar you had made your home for three weeks, turning the air into something you could taste, metallic...
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