The Last Kiss of the Bombs

Ishan's body has contorted itself to fit. His fingers clutched around the firing lever, pulling it frantically is the only thing that will reduce the impossible heat even for a moment. From the tiny slit in the metal he can see other soldiers, baby-faced friends and the monstrous pig-faced enemy, both falling beneath his iron coffin's advance. He tries to cry, but his tears turn to steam. When her sauna takes him into triage, she can barely bring herself to look at him. She wheels his stretcher to its place in the stinking, vaulted tent that serves as a field hospital. They pass above the trench again and again and they never turn

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