The Faded Dust
The first stitch in the left hand took forty minutes to place, the second an hour, and the third, which held the skin of the thumb to the palm, nearly two, a cold dampness seeping into the wool of Thomas’s uniform as he sat on the muddy lip of the trench, counting the seconds between the dull thud of distant artillery and the sharp, rhythmic pain in his fingers. He had been holding the line for...
0 التعليقات 0 المشاركات 1 مشاهدة 0 معاينة