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3 Stories
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Stephen Crane
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223
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25
Dust hangs thick as grief in the humid trenches, clinging to the boy’s sweat-slicked skin like a shroud. The air itsel... -
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Erich Maria Remarque
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128
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15
The mud breathes with the dead. A creeping, grey rot consumes not just bodies, but the very souls of young men fed into ... -
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E. E. Cummings
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171
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16
Dust motes dance in the perpetual twilight of a French prison camp, a suffocating stillness broken only by the rasp of c... -