My Father Called Me A Zero In Front Of Officers Until The Colonel Asked For My Call Sign

Arthur Neves was sixty years old and wore his years the way he wore his uniform, with aggressive precision, as if time itself were a subordinate that had been told to make him look good and had obeyed. His silver hair was cut high and tight. His skin was tanned from weekends on golf courses with senators. He was laughing at something a lieutenant colonel continue reading …