The Golden Crossing

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2026-08-23 08:44:40 -

The letter lay on the workbench, the ink still wet, smelling of iron and authority. It was from the Town Council, and it did not ask; it ordered. My hands, stained with the soot of the furnace, trembled as I read the final line: *The workshop is hereby suspended pending safety review.* I looked up at the glassblowing pipe in my hand, the molten gather glowing a dull, angry orange against the...

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