A collection of short stories.
It was the year 1942. The two soldiers dragged themselves wearily through the never ending stretch of mud.
Jeff and I lay under the moon, hands entwined, staring at the stars. Moments like these, I thought, are like gems. I will never let them go. Ever.
She hugged the book to her chest. Years of pencil scribbles, random words that she had learned, not a scrap of the paper not used. There was only one page left.