Now, she pulled it out again. The smell of dry cleaner’s plastic and mothballs hit her. Her mother stood in the doorway, arms crossed.
Outside, rain had started. Elena limped to her car, still in the AGSU. Her mother was waiting in the passenger seat, having driven her there. agsu dress uniform
“I have to,” Elena replied, stepping into the trousers. They fit looser now. The deployment had melted ten pounds off her. She tucked in the shirt, then fumbled with the brass buttons on the coat. Each one clicked into place like a small, final decision. Now, she pulled it out again
Elena straightened. The wool bit into her shoulders, reminding her to sit up. “Sir, I earned this uniform. I’ll leave it when they pry it off.” arms crossed. Outside