by Anwen Hayward | Apr 20, 2009 | Stories
She had not wanted him to go to war in the first place. To her, the idea of war was an archaic and primitive one, and could only end in the complete destruction of everything for which it had begun, and the thought of her Tony being shipped right into the middle of it...
by Anwen Hayward | Apr 19, 2009 | Poetry
He said that the moon was pale, A silver sliver in the choking night, And that it illuminated their prison like cobwebs in a candle. The deafening thuds and crashes filled The dusty, dangerous air, And lived in harmony with the drowning gases. The ground was thick and...
