The Pale Meridian
The frost had settled into the crevices of my soul before I ever saw the first white peak of the Rockies, a crystalline ache that mirrored the landscape stretching out beneath the trembling glass of the troop transport. I was not merely a soldier then, though the green beret sat heavy on my brow and the rations tasted of cardboard and despair; I was a vessel for the silence of Sergeant Elias...
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