a cold winter, can see my warm breath flowing out of me as I stare at this can of beef and a salted cracker in my lap.
I set aside my rifle under the tree roots and dip my cracker in the juicy beef. It's dripping over my stiff frozen fingers as they shook when the beef covered cracker closed in on my chapped lips.
It was so good that it left me speachless.
The tingle on my tongue, the aroma entering my nose triggering the cells in my brain. All the memories from childhood.
Mothers spaghetti with canned beef and tomato sauce covered with crispy melted cheese.
I hear the whistle, time to advance. Rifle ready. I leap over the edge. Sound of metal colliding rings in my ears. All goes blank. The control over my limbs disappear and i collapse.
Thick substance runs down my face. My last memory. My favorite. Mothers meal.