The Golden Crossing
The first entry in the ledger is dated the fourteenth of October, though I no longer recall the year. I had spent the afternoon in the amber-lit study, the air thick with the scent of old paper and the low, persistent hum of the Golden Crossing. It sat on the oak desk, a relic of unidentifiable alloy, vibrating at a frequency that seemed to bypass my ears and settle directly into the marrow of...
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