The Faded Shield
You hold the shield. It is small. Too small. Your hands are large. The wood is thin. The paint is flaking. Blue. Faded. A star in the center. White. It used to be bright. Now it is grey. Look at it. Really look. Do you see the cracks? Do you see the splinters? Do you see your own reflection? Distorted. Broken. "Put it down," says Thomas. His voice is low. Smooth. Like oil. He stands by the...
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