2. Trench Mud War

Mr Xherri droned on about the devastation, death and mud, and killing and mud, and death.

I know it is true.

I wear a poppy on Remembrance Day.

I have a beautiful broach I found in my mum's jewelry box which she said I could keep.

To be true, this field is the last place to think about war and death.

It is covered in patches of poppies, awash with poppies.

We have walked right to the middle of the field, perhaps fifty meters and I have hardly heard a word Mr Xherri said.

Most of us don't listen to him anyway, except for George.

Ben and Christina catching up, walking next to each other nearly holding hands.

Their heads leaning towards each other as they whisper inane comments, such pointless dross it is hard to believe.

Totally gross.

Dax staring dreamily at the birds. He likes birds.

Emmit and Finn trudging, their shoes digging in the dirt, knocking down the plants. Ruining their New Balances.

Have they no self respect?

rate this: hurrah :: boo