The Faded Shield
The rain had been falling for three days, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the cobblestones of the old mill town into a slick, treacherous river of mud and refuse, and I stood in the doorway of the ash room, watching the water streak down the glass in long, weeping lines that blurred the world outside until it looked like a watercolor painting left out in the storm, my fingers wrapped...
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