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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Death · #994059
(50 WORDS): Two wounded enemy soldiers meet on the remains of a battlefield.
         The battlefield surrounds me. Fallen brothers, weeping sisters: lives lost without purpose. I see movement, glimmering steel. Another soldier lives.
         I approach. My canteen quenches his thirst. He sees my uniform, a different color, but my blood, it is the same. We smile. It’s okay. We’ll both meet in hell.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/994059-Brother