The Golden Crossing

added blog Literature

2026-08-21 13:21:58 -

The train hissed into the station, a long, silver breath in the damp autumn air. Margaret Holloway stepped off, her boots striking the wet gravel. She was not here for the man. She was here for the mirror. The house at the end of the row waited in the gray. It was a brick box, soot-stained and silent, with windows that looked like empty eye sockets. Margaret had not seen it in twenty years, but...

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