The Pale Verdict
The rain had turned the trench into a slurry of grey clay and rot, a substance that seemed to possess its own heavy, indifferent life. Sergeant Elias Thorne sat in the mud, his back against the packed earth, his rifle resting across his knees like a dead limb. He was not looking at the enemy. He was looking at the patch of moss that had taken root in the corner of his dugout, a small,...
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