The field was wide, but the path was narrow avoiding the mines. We could sense the shadow of death through the destroyed tanks on each side of us, but this was the only way to get there. Others depended on us and we depended on them to make the right decisions.
We made it through the field before sunset. Thanks to those who came before us and to those who came with us, we all did.
During the battle that continued for three more weeks, and long after that, I was not the only one who felt joy that in spite of being broken we were still found worthy to serve.
Linked to Six Sentence Stories where Denise offers the prompt word “field” for these stories of six sentences.
One of my micro-stories, “Door”, was published in Whispers and Echoes‘ Tiny Terrors theme. I am grateful to the editor Sammi Cox for selecting it.