The Golden Farce
The road was a ribbon of gray dust. It stretched into the mist. Elias walked. His boots were heavy. They were old leather. They smelled of rain and iron. He carried a satchel. It was brown. It was cracked. Inside was a map. The map was parchment. It was brittle. It whispered when he moved. He walked for three days. The sky was a bruise. It hung low. It pressed against the hills. The hills were...
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