The Golden Crossing
The badge was heavy. It pressed against Hart’s chest like a cold stone. He dreamed of it again. The metal was tarnished. It was not gold. It was not shining. It was dull and grey. It smelled of rust. In the dream, he wore it on his chest. He walked through a field of black grass. The grass whispered. It called his name. Hart woke up. The ceiling was white. There were cracks in the plaster. They...
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