Dearest Martha,
I’m writing this from the front lines. I hope you’re doing well, I hope little Jim is well too. I gotta tell you, I’d much rather be there then sitting out here. Remember Ray? Say hi to his mom at the funeral for me, okay? Fuck, this isn’t easy baby. I watched him take one right in the throat, ya know? I mean they give us these helmets and what good do they do when you’re taking shots right to the throat? Continue reading “Letter Home” →