Danielle Bean

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Another night. By now we’re numb from the tension. It’s a deadly tension that scratches along our spines like a jagged knife. Our legs are about to give out, our hands are trembling, our bodies are just a thin skin stretched over the madness we’ve been working so hard to suppress, over an endless, irrepressible roar that’s just on the verge of erupting.
All Quiet on the Western Front
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