The Golden Circuit
The glass shattered. Not broke. Shattered. Into a thousand jagged stars. The sound was a crack like a bone. Silence followed. Then the screaming. I stood in the mud. The mud was black. It clung to my boots. It smelled of wet iron. My hands were empty. I had held the thing. The golden circuit. It was a necklace. A single, heavy loop of gold. It had belonged to the dead. The dead men of the 14th...
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