Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Blood That Shames the Red, Red Rose

1 min read

“Are you sending me home, ma’am?” he asked, coughing into the damp air.

The violent movement sent a fresh flood of claret to struggle against the haphazard field dressing.

“Yes, soldier, you’re going home,” I sighed in contempt.

I signaled to our radioman to order the medevac to grant this boy the illicit dignity of losing his final breath on American soil.

love, peace, and adobo grease, Guilliean
love, peace, and adobo grease, Guilliean

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