The Pale Verdict
The mud sucked at my boots with a wet, tearing sound as I drove the stake into the earth. It was the last one, the final mark on the demarcation line that would separate our side from theirs, and I needed it to hold before the frost set in. My hands were numb, the leather of my gloves cracked and stiff, and the air smelled of cordite and wet clay, a scent that had replaced the smell of home so...
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