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Weekly Contest #353
I woke up to the sound of shelling. It had become my usual morning routine, the same way my hair felt heavy and greasy now under the helmet I never took off. I was transferred to the eastern frontline not long ago, but I’ve already learned that if I had to sum up war, it would be mud.Mud everywhere… On the tip of my tongue, in my nostrils, in the back of my throat. I never thought I could hate that earthy taste so much. But it makes sense. My whole day is spent hiding in it, sleeping in it, eating with hands already caked in it, simply livin...
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