The Faded Shield

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2026-08-20 15:59:54 -

The Faded Shield

The dream was not a dream but a recurring, viscous fog that smelled of wet wool and coal dust, a smell that had seeped into the very fibers of my being during the long, grey years of the Second World War, a time when the sky above the munitions factory in Northumberland was always bruised purple with smoke and the air tasted of copper and fear, and in this fog I held the shield, not the steel...

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