The Distant Legend
The paper was thin, cream-colored, and smelled of dust and old ink. You held it with both hands, your knuckles white, the edges sharp against your skin. It was the commendation, the one you had waited eleven months for, the one that proved the thirty-four men of the Ninth Company had not died for nothing. The gilded hall of the Ministry of Internal Affairs hummed with a low, electrical drone, a...
0 Kommentare 0 Geteilt 1 Ansichten 0 Bewertungen