Sunday, XXXX
I told Unni. About us, that is. I'm not sure if it is okay, but I presume it can't hurt much. Well- I told him. And he... looked bemused, I suppose, but at least, he did not laugh. And, we are doing this bucket thing together.
How did this even come to pass? We were fighting. And now we are giggling over scraps of paper, like teenagers. But technically, I am still just out of my teens, so it may not be so bad after all.
We are on the move again. There was shelling yesterday, and we sank into the trenches once more. It is scary, so very scary. At this point, I would rather listen to the old bat of the docks than be here. This war is going to swallow me whole, and what comes out on the other side may not be me at all. Dear one, we do such terrible, terrible things, and we pass cities razed by marauding armies, high on victory and I fear, after, I might not be human at all, just like them. Truly, I only find solace in the fact that you all are safe at home. Eternal be a joy, or so I pray. And, with rare generosity, may I add, your spouse's.
Sincerely yours,
The Soldier.
YOU ARE READING
At War
Romantik"Revenge by young men is considered victory, but old men who stay at home in times of war, and mothers who have sons to lose know better." -Chief Seattle This is an anti- war epistolary novella written for ONC 2022. Prompts 5 and...
