A War Raged . . .

'Twas so late Monday, 'twas really Tuesday. In the darkest part of that night, the sharp stabs of sabres, the rumble and explosions of heavy cannonry, and the death wails of infantrymen could be both felt and heard throughout my belly. The battle lasted for well over three hours.

As dawn broke, the devastation was evident. There was no victor, but I was beginning to think that I just might live. Food poisoning sucks.

I stayed in bed all day and actually did get a spot of writing in. That's when the poodle showed up.

(to be continued)