The Faded Frequency
October 14th. The house is quiet. The wind moves through the eaves. It sounds like a low hum. I am sitting in the chair by the window. The light is fading. My hands are on my knees. They are still. I have been waiting for the phone. It has not rung. I am not surprised. I am a soldier. I know how to wait. Waiting is part of the job. We wait for orders. We wait for the enemy. We wait for death....
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