The Distant Legend
The transfer request form sat in my hands, heavy with the specific weight of bureaucracy. It was a standard Form 104-B, ink smudged at the corner where I had held it too long, my thumb pressing a dark crescent into the white paper. I wanted out. I wanted the inland depot, a quiet office with a window that looked out on nothing but grey pavement, a place where the air was still and the silence...
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