[SPEAKER_00]: These Sumis, a short-hand missile tail, by Matthew C. McLean.
[SPEAKER_00]: His uniform marked him as a soldier from the war, but little else did.
[SPEAKER_00]: He did not come in and stand a detention, or an ounce's rank, but moved like a shadow to hang his cloak.
[SPEAKER_00]: He carried no saber, but she had learned many of the officers that abandoned these in the face of the artillery.
[SPEAKER_00]: that new invention of the battlefield must have left its mark on him.
[SPEAKER_00]: As she had no other explanation for his face.
[SPEAKER_00]: Nearly half of it had curdled into a terrible pink scar.
[SPEAKER_00]: The eye must happen, what remained of the nose, pulled into formality by the new restrictions of his skin.
[SPEAKER_00]: She had never seen such a thing before, causing her to pull the sheets to her.
[SPEAKER_00]: Her reaction stopped him, the toes of his boots just at the line of light, the room's narrow window through a cross-the-floor.
[SPEAKER_00]: She expected her reaction to anger him, but if any was there, it passed quickly.
[SPEAKER_00]: With felt by corn and hand, as I fell to the floor, my apologies, met a mozzelle.
[SPEAKER_00]: I'd heard you were a woman of great compassion.
[SPEAKER_00]: I will not trouble you of my appearances as monstrous as I feared.
[SPEAKER_00]: He stood there a moment, then moved to return to the coat back.
[SPEAKER_00]: Wait, she commanded him.
[SPEAKER_00]: When he looked back at her, she studied him for a time.
[SPEAKER_00]: Finally, she pulled the sheets away, revealing her nakedness and making room for him on the bed.
[SPEAKER_00]: Take off your clothes and lie with me, she ordered.
[SPEAKER_00]: You'll talk and tell the truth like children.
[SPEAKER_00]: What is good?
[SPEAKER_00]: What is bad?
[SPEAKER_00]: Most of all, we will speak of our loneliness.