The Faded Shield
The rain hit the pavement in steady, gray sheets. It washed the blood from the gutter, turning the red into a pink mist that smelled of iron and wet stone. David stood under the awning of the closed bakery, watching the droplets arc through the air. His uniform was soaked. The fabric clung to his back, heavy and cold. He did not move. He did not breathe. He only watched the water. "David." The...
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