August 1942
The Pilot struggles to keep his Yak fighter level. The weather is worsening and the cloud ceiling low. But those are the least of his problems right now. His machine is riddled with holes and engulfed in black smoke from the smoldering engine. The Pilot feels scorching pain down his side. Enemy bullets passed through the cabin, and his body as well. The agony is almost unbearable, but a sign of life. A sign of life that’s slipping away and succumbing to numb bliss. Euphoria is a serene, deceptive enemy that must be stopped at all costs. To lose consciousness means death. Pilotless, the Yak will tumble from the sky into the forested mountains below.
Fiction
Fictional blog entries.