PHOTO PROMPT © Madison Woods
It’s raining again as I leave the chateau. Bloody rain! It’s been raining since late July, halting our advance on Passchendaele. Nothing can move through this mud. Before reaching the line, I’m already rehearsing my report.
But the battlefield vanquishes me. A bog, pocked by oozing shell craters, which sunk and drowned a quarter of a million men. Sticking from the mud, an arm that had once belonged to a living man, that had raised a pint with mates or caressed a sweetheart’s cheek.
God! What have we done? I put my service revolver to my temple, squeezing the trigger.
Friday fictioneers is a weekly challenge to write a 100-word story in response to a photo prompt. You can find It here