The Faded Photograph
The rain did not fall; it struck. It hammered against the reinforced glass of the command post, a rhythmic, violent drumming that matched the thudding in my chest. I sat in the corner, my uniform damp from the storm that had breached the perimeter an hour ago. The city outside was a skeleton of concrete and steel, stripped of its skin by the floodwaters that had risen so fast the morning...
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