Even the bringing back of time couldn't change the dirty deed of death on my hands, blood of what I thought was the enemy in this foggy dead man's land.1
I thought John was right beside me, wiping the sweat off his brow and coughing up spit as he aimed, then fired toward the enemy's campsite, we were the only ones there left with little amo as possible.2
Ten bullets left in my machine gun and I had seen little movement for a while, until of course the ruffling of bushes up ahead, when I fired at will, only to see the dead corpse collapse,waist up propped out of the dirty leaves, the last I saw of my best pal John.
A contest entry
- Story in only Three Sentences by Stryke.
550 points, ended October 16, 2008, 29 entries
• next story in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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OMG this is so sad.. and probably true sadly.. war is a very tragic thing
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hands, blood / , should be ;.
amo / ammo.
collapse,waist / need space after , .
Some awkward wording in the last sentence, but i am amazed at your compounds.
You made full use of them and created a really great story...sad story, but a great one THanks for entering my contest and best of luck to you
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