The white pigeon

A story inspired by a real events.

Write with Joy

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It was early morning; my teeth had not stopping shattering for a moment, even for a tiny fragrance of the second. We know that the winter would be soon upon us, we were able to feel it in our bones, which were what we get from our bodies. Only skeletons, barely covered with skin, our muscles were not so strong as before. We were living every single day on the verge of dying.

Sometimes, we envied our brother out there, whose hearts stopped beating, they were no longer able to see what we saw, and they did not feel the desperation anymore, the cold and the fear. I envied them, too.  Yesterday, there were two deserters, boys on age of nineteen, they crossed the barrier, reaching the no men’s land, and they waved their hands up into the air. The Germans did not shot, but our commander set fire on…

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