The Golden Quest
The letter was not for me, but I read it anyway, the ink blotted by the damp that had settled into the fibers of the paper long before it reached my hands. I sat in the mud of the Somme, the left side of my body a void where the arm had been, the stumps of my fingers twitching in the cold air as if they still held a rifle that no longer existed. The tribunal had already branded me a deserter, a...
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