Every day is a battle, when it comes to words. Deep in the trenches, a man sits trembling, breath heavy and hot. The darkest blood-spatter lay, as if precisely placed, on paper consumed by ink and hand. The story had only been half written, but the soldier's sight reached much shorter than expected. While sounds flew past his head, he struggled to load his weapon, leaving him at far greater risk of failure. Somehow, the soldier instinctively knew what lay ahead, and the successes that would be. So, in that moment, he went forth.