The Distant Wound

added blog Literature

2026-08-20 03:23:58 -

The Distant Wound

The rain tasted of iron. It fell in sheets. Gray. Endless. It slicked the mud of the trench. I held my rifle. My hands shook. Not from fear. From cold. The mud sucked at my boots. Heavy. Wet. "Steady, Thomas." A voice. Low. Rough. I looked up. Captain Halloway stood behind me. His face was a mask of gray. His eyes were bright. Too bright. He did not blink. "Steady, Thomas," he said again. I...

0 Comments 0 Shares 2 Views 0 Reviews