His arms were covered in veins of World War One trenches. The contours stuck out like a frame captured by a British spotter, showing the primary trench, maintenance trenches, and all the supporting features. His skin was tanned and almost leathery. Not leathery, but almost. His biceps were small only because he himself was aContinueContinue reading “Cursory Glance: The Diner – Nonfiction”