The Golden Downtown
The gate was not locked, which was the first thing that struck Silas as he stood in the grey rain, his fingers white-knuckled around the iron handle. It was a simple thing, really, just a boundary line drawn in rusted metal across a field that hadn’t been plowed in years, but it felt like a wall to the heart. He had walked for three days to get here, driven by a hunger that wasn’t for food, but...
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