It was a gloomy, drenched day. The sky was darkening imperceptibly but steadily, obscuring the view from the very small mess hall which huddled in the middle of a muddy waste. The only thing which identified it as a mess hall was the presence of the two soldiers who were sitting over their coffee. To them, it was weather of a monotonous sadness which seemed to have settled upon them, branding them permanently.
Manuscripts: Vol. 15
, Article 17.
Available at: http://digitalcommons.butler.edu/manuscripts/vol15/iss4/17