The Faded Quadrant
The medicine bottle was nearly empty, and Deputy Thomas Bradshaw stood at the window in his jacket. It was the deep-green wool jacket the town issued, and it had faded in a quadrant above his heart, a pale place exactly the shape and size of his badge. He had not taken it off in four years. He slept in it some nights. It had become as much a part of him as the grain of his skin. His sister...
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