The Faded Shield
The transfer request form, Form 14-B, lay on the steel desk, its edges curling slightly from the humidity of the sterile room. Elias Thorne stared at the signature line, his pen hovering, the ink drying on the tip before it could touch the paper. He was forty-two, a Sergeant with twenty years of service, and all he wanted was to be home by the time the winter frost set in, to sit by his...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews