The Faded Shield

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2026-08-20 02:17:52 -

The Faded Shield

The bread was dry. It had been dry for three days, ever since the rain stopped and the wind turned the color of iron. I stood in the center of the wagon, holding the loaf in my hands, feeling the weight of it. It was not just bread. It was the last of what we had carried from the old house, the only thing that had survived the crossing of the river without being stolen or rotted. My hands were...

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