Dear Mother, several days have passed, rather months since the Civil War broke out. Counting the men that I have around me, we must already be about two hundred volunteers belonging to the International Brigades. I am currently in Madrid, under the command of Colonel Vicente Rojo. That bearded man who was such a friend of Father and now, still being an English soldier, has me as his right hand man. As for the war development, the National troops do not stop sowing fear wherever they arrive. Those faithful to the Republic are optimists, but Mother, I am afraid. I am afraid of having made the wrong decision, and like my Father, dying in a war that is not ours.
Someone is knocking on the door; I must leave you. Benedict
Pseudònim: Dubrovnik
Very interesting!
MAKES YOU PAUSE AND THINK. CAPTURES THE FUTILITY OF WAR.
Espectacular. Hacia mucho tiempo que no leía algo tan bien escrito y con un fondo tan interesante.
No se si ganarás este concurso, pero el hecho de haber escrito este relato ya es suficiente premio. Tienes un don, aprovéchalo
Muy sorprendente. Grata alegría encontrarme con este texto. Espero poder disfrutar de más en el futuro. Estaré atenta.
Muy interesante. Felicidades