The Faded Photograph

bir ses eklendi Literature

2026-08-21 18:49:25 -

The bread was hard. Not the pleasant kind of hard that signals a good crust, but the dry, brittle kind that snaps teeth. I chewed it in the silence of the barracks. The other men were asleep in their bunks, snoring in the dim light of the gas lamps. I sat on the edge of my cot, the piece of bread in my hand, feeling its weight. It felt like a stone. My father had baked this. Or rather, he had...

0 Yorumlar 0 hisse senetleri 2 Views 0 önizleme