Shouting as the cannon fired into the misty night, darkness surrounding them.
The Savannah River protected by the soldiers of Fort Jackson dependent upon cooperation and willpower.
Sickness and disease infects the weak and weary causing death and destruction as it runs rampant.

Shadows walked about the fort, illuminated only by the bright light of the fire.
Mist hung heavy, blocking the little light there was causing confusion and misguidance to all without illumination.
Moonlight escorting people through the darkness, taking them to their next destination.

Burning through the night, the embers hissed as they touched the anvil’s dark, cool metal.
People skirmish about at the first sound of a trumpet, alerting them of a need to move.
Firing the rifles, the instructor shows speed and dexterity with his hands during a race against time itself.

Why does the cannon’s voice echo through the valleys so loudly?
Why do people fight so vigorously for beliefs that will only end in violence and conflict?
Why does the pain never cease?

The medicine tingled and danced upon my tongue as it slipped so gracefully down my throat.

Dark
Dark
Dark