Ficlets

William B. Mackay

The patter of gun fire filled Will’s ears as he was shook awake from his slumber.
The dew of the morning had soaked the edges of the canvas tent he and First Lieut. Fred Harris shared and Will could feel the cold air even inside his blanket.
“Come on then. We got to report to Major Longstreet in ‘bout half a’ hour.”
Will sat up, bleary-eyed and anxious about the day’s events. They were preparing for the Battle of Antietam under General Lee’s command.
Fred on the other hand was bursting with anticipation. He was a fine soldier, always eager to battle. Will couldn’t think of anything worse.
Will pulled on his grey uniform and strapped his revolver to his side. His hands shook with nerves.
Fred looked him up and down.
“You ain’t ne’er goin’ be able to fight with them shaky things!”, he chuckled as he exited the tent.
Will narrowed his eyes in defiance. “Am too!”
He barrelled out of the tent only to crash right into Fred.
Fred shook his head and sighed. “Try not to get into any more trouble today, will ya?”

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