The Letter from No Man's Land
The field hospital smelled of iodine and gangrene and something else—something I couldn't name at the time but recognize now as the particular stench of men dying in places they have no business being. I was twenty years old and had never smelled death before that September, and even though I had spent the previous two years reading poetry by the firelight in a bookstore in St. John's, Vermont,...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 5 مشاهدة 0 معاينة