Vault of Ghosts
A golden short story.
Gold Sails West
June 1940. Atlantic churns.
Ships haul gold. France bleeds dry. Britain shakes hard. Crates pile high. “Our soul’s aboard.”
America opens vaults. “Safe with us.”
War eats east.
Gold lands west.
Trust ties them. Thin as thread.
The Pact
1944.
Bretton Woods buzzes.
Smoke drifts. Nations sign fast. Dollars mean gold. $35 an ounce.
America stands proud. “We hold it.” Vaults shine bright.
France doubts soft. “Power shifts quick.”
Hands clasp tight. Gold backs words.
World trusts America.
Hope frays slow.
Nixon Breaks It
August 15, 1971.
Radio hums.
America speaks cold. Gold window shuts.
France slams fists. “They’ve robbed us.” Dollars stack up. Gold stays locked. Market leaps—$97.
1973 sets it.
$42.22 per ounce. America nods calm. “Keeps us steady.”
Trust splits wide. Dust falls quiet.
The Ledger Lies
$42.22 holds firm. Years roll past.
Germany’s gold waits. America vaults hum. Market hits $2,940. 2025 glows hot. No debts bind them.
America stays silent.
Whispers grow loud. “Why hide it?”
Ledger’s a ghost. Haunts the dark. Truth lies deep.
The Reprice
February 2025. America shifts gears.
Gold jumps $2,940. “Reality now.”
$11 billion blooms. $768 billion towers. Markets blink fast.
France glares west. “They kept ours low.”
History cuts deep. $42.22 taunts still.
Germany stirs slow. Wants it back.
Ghost Wakes
France yells sharp. “Audit it now!”
Germany agrees quick. Netherlands joins in. “Ours to claim.”
Crowds flood streets. “Justice for ‘71!”
America stares blank. “No law says that.”
Reason fades fast. Rage takes hold. Gold trucks rumble. 1,200 tons move. X spits lies. “Vault’s a husk!”
Dollars crash hard. Chaos bites fierce.
Stone Wall
America leans back. “What you gonna do?”
World demands audits. “Open it up!”
France pounds hard. “Show us now!”
Germany flies planes. Netherlands sends threats. America gates slam. “Ours to guard.”
Laws stand clear. History backs it. No ounces owed. America shrugs cold. “Prove us wrong.”
Voices scream loud. “You stole it!”
No proof shows that. Human nature burns. Logic turns ash. Trust’s a ghost. France vows dark. “We’ll take it.”
America laughs low. “Come try it.”
Edge of Ruin
France moves first. Ships sail west.
Germany cuts trade. “No more dollars.”
Netherlands pulls gold. Streets blaze red. “Burn their lies!”
America stands firm. “Nothing to see.”
Vaults stay shut. World howls mad. “Open or pay!”
No law bends.
History laughs dry.
Human nature rules. Fairness drives blind.
Russia watches close. Smiles at cracks. China sells bonds. Markets bleed fast. Gold’s not gold. It’s blood now.
Trust’s long gone. America digs heels. “Bring it on.”
Chaos claws deep.
Nations fray fast.
The Reckoning
America sees smoke.
France paces stone. “Not done yet.”
No treaties hold. No ounces owed. Feelings reign now.
Ghosts scream loud. Gold’s not metal. It’s memory. Trust.
Gold is a game of faith now.
Fairness scratches raw. Reprice broke it. Vault stays sealed. Better that way.
Dust drifts slow…
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