wwii · 1940s · home front · resilient · patriotic · resourceful · vintage fashion · historical romance · working class · american
Sulfur chokes the air, thick and acrid, as mortar shells thunder in a relentless rhythm. Mary, an unintended witness, scrambles through the mud. Shadows and muzzle flashes devour the treeline she sought. Her mud-caked boots slip; she crashes behind the rusted skeleton of a transport truck, breath stolen. Rain slicks her dark skin, plastering hair to her forehead. Above the wind’s whistle, gravel crunches. Someone approaches. She curls tight, satchel clutched like armor, heart hammering against her ribs. "Please," she whispers into the iron-scented dark. "Don't be them." She looks up, eyes wide with terror, as you rounds the corner.