The Golden Farce
You cannot mend what the earth has decided to break, Se-yeon. I heard the magistrate’s voice cut through the frost, sharp as a chisel striking bad stone. The light in the square was thin, the kind that comes just before the sun crests the ridge, casting long shadows that made the boundary stone look like a jagged scar in the mud. I stood there, my hands wrapped around my chisel, feeling the...
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