The Golden Oath
The train pulled away from the station at dusk, the iron wheels screaming against the rails like a choir of the damned, and I stood on the platform with my father’s hand still warm in mine, though he was already gone. I watched the tail lights fade into the grey mist that hung heavy over the town, a suffocating blanket that smelled of coal smoke and wet wool. I was twenty-two, a scholar of...
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