The Faded Masquerade
The letter lay on the table, its edges soft with handling. It was a standard Army form, Form 14-B, regarding the suspension of rights pending trial. I had read it three times. The ink was dry. My name, Harold Sherwin, was typed in the top left corner in block capitals that seemed to shout. I folded the paper into a small square and placed it in my breast pocket, next to the heart that had been...
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