The Golden Master
You leave before the light breaks. The gate groans. It is a sound you know by heart, a rusty scream in the dark. You do not look back. There is no one to see. There is only the road, black and wet with the rain that has been falling since Tuesday. You carry the pack. It is heavy. The straps dig into your shoulders. You feel the weight of the thing inside. The golden master. It is not gold. It...
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