There, conspicuous in the light of the conflagration, lay the dead body of a womanthe white face turned upward, the hands thrown out and clutched full of grass, the clothing deranged, the long dark hair in tangles and full of clotted blood. The greater part of the forehead was torn away, and from the jagged hole the brain protruded, overflowing the temple, a frothy mass of gray, crowned with clusters of crimson bubblesthe work of a shell.The child moved his little hands, making wild, uncertain gestures. He uttered a series of inarticulate and indescribable criessomething between the chattering of an ape and the gobbling of a turkeya startling, soulless, unholy sound, the language of a devil. The child was a deaf mute.Then he stood motionless, with quivering lips, looking down upon the wreck.
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Themes
- War — Reflections on conflict, peace, and the human cost of war