The Golden Visit
Da-eun Kang sat on the bench, the smoke of the Ministry curling into the grey dawn, and thought of the one hundred and twenty-six of the Amber Stair, a number that meant nothing to anyone but the men who counted the steps of the dead. He looked at his hands. They were clean. The gold was gone. I The ice storm had felled the elms three days prior, snapping branches like dry bone and pinning the...
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