The Golden Farce
The storm did not break the bridge; it revealed that the bridge had been a lie for years, rotting from the inside out until the weight of the flood simply released it into the grey, churning water. Elias Thorne woke with mud in his mouth and the screaming of the wind still ringing in his ears, his body stiff and cold in the silt of the bank. He was a man of forty, worn down by years of...
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