The Golden Downtown
The road out of the city was a ribbon of wet asphalt, slick and black, cutting through the dark woods that pressed close on either side. You were driving your father’s old sedan, the engine coughing and shivering in the cold, while the wipers beat a frantic, rhythmic tattoo against the windshield. It was November, the air thin and sharp, carrying the scent of rotting leaves and distant...
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