The Golden Harbor
The train hissed into the station of Blackwood, a sound like a dying breath caught in the throat of the night. The air was thick with the scent of coal smoke and wet iron, a metallic tang that coated the back of my tongue. I stepped onto the platform, my boots clicking against the damp cobblestones, the rhythm sharp and lonely. Above me, the gas lamps flickered, their light struggling against...
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