Tw: Smoking and mild gore Ivanov was standing in a field of tall grass, the warm summer wind of the German controlled France blowing past his face, like a warm embrace across his chest. Tired and wounded, the young man sat down and grabbed a cigarette, and the lighter, although holding the lighter made the wounds on his hands hurt. He popped the lit cigarette into his mouth and slumped next to a tree, eyes begining to close.
Writing collab
