Hi all, just to let you know that a short story of mine was published over at Wry Ronin. It's an interesting piece that speaks not only to the fog of war but the fog of memory. We all know that history itself is a battlefield (that is, how we remember these events, why we went to war etc) but I have come to realize that one man's truth is another man's propaganda.
This isn't, however some post-modernist scree but rather something like a warning to tell all of us that we need, nay must, focus on more than just a million screaming personal histories.
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