When Doves Cry

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abuse, AMHudlow, death, fear, fiction, guns, life, loss, love, murder, stories, story, tragedy, tragic, writing

The soft laughing of a girl filled the evening air as a boy whispered something in her ear. She playfully punched his shoulder brfore looking down at her wrist-watch and realized the time was later than she thought. She motioned to the boy that it was time for her to go home. He put his arms around her to signal hat he didn’t want her to leave him. When she tried to escape from his grasp Tom voiced his thoughts on the matter.

“You can’t stay there! You’ll die if you do,”

Poor Son of Dixie

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150, 150th Anniversary, America, AMHudlow, Civil War, confederate, creative, fear, fiction, Gettysberg, Grant, guns, History, Lincoln, North, Robert E Lee, Slavery, soilder, South, stories, story, Union, United States, War, writing

 

 

 

When the scared-looking soldier stepped out of the woods with his hands raised I was pretty sure that he wanted to surrender but my sergeant shot him anyway. “What was that for? He was surrendering?” I yelled at Sergeant Kelly as he lowered his rifle. “This is a war damnit! We have to kill some people.” He said as he went through the newly deceased soldiers clothes looking for ammunition. “But he was only a boy.” I said barley above a whisper. “Well blame his Mama for letting him join the army, William, now let’s move out”