473 A Hemingway Short Story (with Mark Cirino)
The History of Literature
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The History of the Machines
My knee did not bend and the leg dropped straight from the knee to the ankle without a calf. The doctor said, that will all pass. You will play football again like a champion. And the next machine was a major who had a little hand like a baby's. He winked at me when the doctor examined his hand, which was between two leather strapsThat day we met every afternoon at the hospital in Milan with three other boys about the same age. We walked through the communist quarter because we were four together. People hated us because we were officers but I felt held together by there being something that had happened they didn't understand.
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