The Pale Banner
I dreamt of the banner. It hung in a vacuum, a rectangle of pale fabric suspended in white noise. No wind moved it. It did not ripple. It simply existed, a void in the shape of a symbol. I woke with the taste of copper in my mouth and the sound of static in my ears. The morning light in the precinct was gray. It filtered through the blinds and cut the room into slats of shadow. I sat at my...
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