The Enemy's Piano
I am not a good man. I tell myself this every morning when I shave in front of the cracked mirror in my quarters, and every night when I lock the door and sit in the dark and listen to the sounds of the city dying beyond the walls. I am not a good man. I am a man who wears a uniform that makes me bad by definition, and inside that uniform is a person who would rather be somewhere else, doing...
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