The Golden Compass

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2026-08-21 09:56:14 -

The rain had not ceased for three days, a persistent, grey weeping that turned the cobblestones of the lane into slick mirrors of the sky, reflecting the low-hanging clouds in a distorted, watery inversion of the world above. I sat in the center of the workshop, the air thick with the scent of wet wool, old varnish, and the metallic tang of the brass gears I had been polishing since dawn. The...

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