The Distant Ghost
The shell burst in the mud of the Somme with a sound like a tearing sheet, and when the dust settled, Sergeant Elias Thorne was left holding only the wet, ragged end of his left arm, the stump wrapped in bloody gauze that had already turned the color of old rust. He stood in the crater, the rain beginning to fall in cold needles against his face, and felt the phantom weight of his missing...
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