Cold Burning Carley Watman Breathing Breaking Burying enclosed in the cold burning Hole in my heart’s core bleeds purple melancholy
A Day in the Life of William Smith William Dotson I a in an enca p ent in the woods near a attlefield It is not cold ut also not warm. The leaves have turned red, orange, and yellow. I wish my breeches were a bit less itchy, but soon they will turn soft from wear. I feel the same way about my shoes, for they are stiff and uncomfortable. My discomfort is due to my new clothes. It is nice to not have tears and mud all throughout them but I do wish they were a bit less stiff and new. The est clothes are the ones that are a it new ut also worn in so they are so t and fle i le y the ain fire I see en elting down scraps o etal or usket alls and packing the into arrels I can s ell the s oke co ing ro any pipes and fires Today is y day o ut I can still hear the uskets firing on the training field e are preparing for the winter, when supplies will be low and we won’t be able to train because of the cold weather. I’m William Smith. I was set to be a blacksmith, but I was too restless as a boy and decided to work full time with the militia, and also joined a group of Yankee Patriots. We held meetings every week. Then, the war came. We had seen it coming for many years; it was like a malevolent storm cloud sitting on your shoulders waiting to fall. Because I’m a middling white I was quick to be offered a spot, but I am still just a priate I wish to one day ay e eco e an o ficer Last week eneral ashington sent us to raid the fleeing ritish I ad ire hi more than anyone I know, for he has saved me in battle. We were mid-raid when I saw a lad no older than se enteen sitting with a rifle nestled in his ar That was when I realized he was aiming at me. I wouldn’t have been afraid if I hadn’t seen the telltale octagonal arrel o a rifle These weapons weren t ery co on in the ar y ut when used y [69]
Master_V3_sm.indd 69 69967_LREI_TEXT_r3.indd 73
5/24/17 12:01 11:50 PM AM