THE TWENTY-FIFTH NIGHT, 30 Days Has September
Captain Carruthers settled into one side of my cleft, which wasn’t really wide enough to have two sides, but he wedged himself in anyway. There were clefts like my own up and down under the folded rock and he could, with his rank, have stayed in any one of them, but I...
TWENTY-FIFTH DAY, THIRD PART, 30 Days Has September
My small cleft was filled with Marines by the time the day moved into late afternoon. I’d finished my letter home, once again extolling the virtues of the local fauna and flora and how the nearly continuous monsoon mist was such a relief from the harsh pounding of the...
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR, Short Story.
THE MIDNIGHT HOUR… The water beating on the cold lakeshore was incessant. Tom lay between the two dumpsters in the alley half a block from the lake, the water lapping along the edge if the nearby shore probably intended by God to be comforting, but it was not....
TWENTY-FIFTH DAY, SECOND PART, 30 Days Has September
The red river was a rivulet of bloody water that happened to be running down the valley, back from the direction the company had to head up into. The major problem, as the Gunny pointed out, was not our movement, air support or even hauling Zippo and the bodies that...Subscribe to FROM THE WILDERNESS
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