IN FLANDERS FIELDS
A 3 x100 word triabble by Amberdreams, Dizzo and Edina Clouds (not necessarily in that order)
Due to unforeseen circumstances, no EO Challenge word was released this week. Our word is die/dying
The boys and Bobby fall foul of a disturbed and frightened spirit. Bobby is awesome. We're being kind this week and letting you choose your own brother.
Disclaimer: We don't own them however much we plot and scheme ...
The rusted metal cut deeper into his already torn skin as he struggled to free himself from the tangle of blood stained barbs.
He tried to tell himself that it wasn't real; that the cacophony of machine gun fire over head was just an illusion; that he wasn't lying in the middle of no-man's land, trapped in a barbed-wire prison. He closed his eyes in an attempt to block out the never-ending barrage of cannon; to block out the terrified cries of those dying alongside.
And then, above the nightmarish sounds of battle, he thought he heard his brother's voice.
"Bobby, I don't know what else to do, he just won't wake up!"
"Yeah, I tried that, but every time I try and move him – shit, Bobby, the pain must be terrible, you should hear him screaming…"
"He's burning up, and keeps muttering about the mud, the noise of guns and the sound of men dying. Do you think he's back in Hell?"
"Ok, I've packed as much ice as I can around him, but it's melting faster than the stupid motel ice-maker can cope with…Now he's saying he's cold, but his skin's still on fire…"
"Come on, bro, please…"
Bobby kneaded the sweat-soaked brow beside him as a horrible realisation dawned.
"What's ya name, son?" he asked nervously.
"Albert Perkins;" words emerging from the fevered lips in a London accent.
"I fought at Paschendaele," Albert whispered; "so hurt and frightened … I couldn't do it no more … couldn't fight … couldn't watch me mates dyin'. Then I got shot for cowardice."
"Afterwards, me widow came to America, gave me uniform to the museum downtown."
"Son, you ain't no coward," Bobby sighed.
He knew he'd have to salt and burn that uniform, then his boy would finally get some peace.
So would poor Albert Perkins
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