Word Count: 98
Thanks to our weekly Hostess, Rochelle, for providing feedback and inspiration.
Fog as sticky and thick as molasses, still somehow light and airy. Unlike any they’d ever seen.
Memories of playing in lush Kentucky Blue along The Fence Line, boys, Brothers, Friends.
Autumn leaves dancing before going lightly aground.
They’d played here, loved here, lived here.
Now they died here.
In the still silence, thick with expectancy . Hushed.
Amidst the lush Kentucky Blue, Brother against Brother, Father against Son.
Facing off at The Fence Line.
1861. The spent cannons smoked. Bodies piled high. Union Blue. Confederate Gray.
Memories of playing in lush Kentucky Blue, along The Fence Line, boys, Brothers, Friends.
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