The Golden Greenhouse
The mortar round did not explode with the cinematic ferocity I had been trained to expect, but rather with a wet, sickening thud that seemed to suck the oxygen out of the air, leaving behind a silence so profound it felt like a physical weight pressing against my eardrums. I was kneeling in the mud of what we were told was a forward operating base, a designation that now felt like a cruel joke...
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