The Faded Photograph

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2026-08-21 10:55:20 -

The mud sucks at your boots with a wet, viscous sound. It is not water. It is the earth, liquefied by the artillery that has been screaming since dawn. You feel it in your teeth, a metallic tang that tastes of rust and old blood. The sky above the trench is a bruised purple, swollen with smoke and the distant, rhythmic thumping of the guns. It sounds like a heartbeat. A slow, dying heartbeat....

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