There’s a letter in his pocket.
I feel it as I lift his body up out of the mud and onto the transport. Above my head, the sky is still burning–the afterglow of EMPs and plasma cannons lingering like snowflakes–but down here in the dirt, the fighting’s been over for days, and we’re just busy collecting the dead…
Hey there … just read it … nicely done! š
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Well, shucks. Thanks!
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I love both your FFO and DSF Stories!
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Thank you! Thrilled you enjoyed them!
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