The Faded Frontier
The mud on my boots was a thick, reddish sludge that had seeped into the leather until it felt less like footwear and more like a second, rotting skin, and as I stood there in the center of the precinct’s sterile, fluorescent-lit bullpen, holding the brass badge that had been my entire identity for thirty years, I watched the rain streak the high windows in long, weeping lines that mirrored the...
0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews