This is a 250 Micro-Fiction piece that I wrote for the second round of the NYC Midnight micro fiction contest. I made it through the first round, however, they passed on this round. I got some good critique though and I will build on that.
I was given, 'Historical Fiction' and I had to show someone 'laying bricks' and use the word: 'step'.
Separated by Mortar
by
Douglas Goodrich
One brick after the other, separated by mortar…
by
Douglas Goodrich
It’s a cold November morning, 1864, and I’m building a brick
wall to help fortify the 3rd Division Army of the Ohio, outside of
Franklin, Tennessee.
How the hell did I get here?
My life is back in Hamilton, Ohio, working my family farm. I
don’t even have a brick house of my own. I should be building this wall for my
wife, Elizabeth, something better than the cheap log house we have now.
This war needs to end. When it started, I was so ready to defend this country until I saw the first poor dead bastard lying before me. I’ve seen so much death and stepped in so many piles of guts and blood, I feel like I bathe in it. I can’t get it off my damn shoes. When I see a Reb die, there’s always another to step up and be killed. It never ends.
This war needs to end. When it started, I was so ready to defend this country until I saw the first poor dead bastard lying before me. I’ve seen so much death and stepped in so many piles of guts and blood, I feel like I bathe in it. I can’t get it off my damn shoes. When I see a Reb die, there’s always another to step up and be killed. It never ends.
Why the hell are we
building this wall anyway? It’s just going to be destroyed like everything else,
torn down as soon as it’s put up.
If I close my eyes, I can see Elizabeth’s face and bare
shoulders, feel her soft skin, and smell her clean hair, even though it’s been
three years now. God, please, I beg you, let me live to get back to her. Let me
kill every Reb that comes in my path and end this living hell.
One brick after the other, separated by mortar…
Comments
Post a Comment