The Golden Mirror

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 00:44:58 -

The Golden Mirror

The rain hit the windshield. It was a heavy, gray sheet. I drove slow. The wipers slapped. Left. Right. Left. Right. A metronome for my pulse. I was alone in the car. The interior smelled of damp wool and old coffee. My hands were steady. They had to be. I am a detective. Or I was. The badge is in my pocket. Heavy. Cold. It presses against my hip like a second heart. I stopped at the red light....

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