The Faded Shield
Could a man buy back a home with his knuckles, or would the debt simply swallow him whole? Bo Ma asked this question to the empty air of the dockyard, his breath misting in the thin, freezing air of the thaw. He was thirty-four years old, a Sergeant in the Municipal Guard, and his hands were stiff from the cold, the joints swollen and red like overripe fruit. He needed the deed to the house at...
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