Tasche

[crisper]

Here in my pocket, there is a picture. A woman and a young boy in a brightly-lit parlor. They are my wife and my son, so very far away. Somewhere, and some-when, that is bright and warm, untouched by war or winter. He is old enough, my son, that he will have some vague memory of me in his life, after I die here. When this place kills me as it has

Comments

[novadrome]

Really good character slice. Now I feel cold.