Sight - Sneering yellow faces of young men; cloudy morning; the rifle was a beautiful German thing with crosshair sights; his trunk reaching skyward like a tree;
Sound- rang me up on the 'phone; we heard yells a little distance away; i heard the devilish roar of glee; the tortured gasps continued as steadily as a ticking clock.
Smell- prisoners huddling in stinking cages;
Feel- stuffy morning;
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment