For whom the Bell tolls, a passage from hemingway

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  • marksit's avatar Artist
    marksit
  • DDG Model
    Artistic
  • Access
    Public
  • Created
    2yrs ago
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Prompt

They were walking down the edge of the meadow now and there was a gray mist. The grass was lush underfoot after the pine-needle floor of the forest and the dew on the grass wet through their canvas rope-soled shoes. Ahead, through the trees, hemingway's Robert Jordan could see a light where he knew the mouth of the cave must be.

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