The Wistful Petal
Roman Cerny, thirty-two, a border guard, found his father’s name stamped in red ink on a requisition order for a new iron gate. It was a bureaucratic error, or so the clerk claimed, but the ink was fresh, wet, and smelling of iron filings. I wanted a transfer to the southern district to escape the brutal winter, but the stamp marked me as a target. Inspector Hradec knew. He always knew. The...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews