The Golden Mirror

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2026-08-22 05:49:23 -

The Golden Mirror

The mirror was heavy. Heavier than it looked, and heavier than the silence it kept. I had carried it for three days through the heather and the bone-white grass of the moor. My hands bled on the silver frame, the sweat stinging the cuts. I did not stop. I could not. The village was there, below the ridge, smoke rising in thin, grey threads from the chimneys. It looked like a painting of a place...

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