The Cold Friction of Living: A Story of Old Iron, Broken Ground, and the Heavy Cost of Standing Still
CHAPTER 1: THE WEIGHT OF A BASKET “You’re breathing my air, old man.” The words smelled of stale tobacco and cheap energy drinks. They came from a mouth that hadn’t smiled with anything resembling sincerity in a decade. I didn’t turn my head right away. My thumb was pressed against the rough wicker handle of…