#war-casualties

#war-casualties

Alexei clears his throat without showing the slightest expression on his face. Squatting and wearing gloves, he shakes the military uniform that once belonged to a man. The jacket and trousers still hold their shape, but inside there is nothing. Just air. Alexei pulls out a worn, stained piece of paper from one of the pockets. Andrei. Moscow, he reads aloud. There's a phone number written here. Good. It helps us trace his origin. Whoever he was, he was a Russian soldier.

I heard a loud noise, and then I woke up in the rubble and I felt the pain,