The Golden Oath
I The township breathes in fog, a terraced silence where the far shore is only rumor, and the cash registers chime their slow, metallic hymn through the haze. I am Olumide Lawan, the line cook who owns the place, standing over the stove while the stranger finalizes the sale. The clock on the wall ticks fast by six minutes, a secret I keep, a debt I pay in seconds. "Seventeen of the Salt Gate,"...
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