Published by

K Mark Schofer

How did I get here?. I never held a gun and there I stood, gun in hand, defending some meaningless bunker on a hill. I looked in the eyes of the enemy across a stagnant foggy field. Sunlight would occasionally dart in and out and the enemy became visible. I looked in their eyes and they were no different than me. A commander called from behind a vague command. I shot a man in the stomach. His head twisted in dismay. I felt sick and vomited violently. A bird sang a song of harmony. This was not my war.

Hello,

I’m Mark

His friends observe Mark seems wired a little differently. Perhaps it’s more likely that noticing little things often missed by others is a relic of a quieter, simpler time. He has a way with words, which he refuses to let be hindered by sub-par typing skills. People have great stories to tell if you sit and listen.

A belief dear to Mark is that there is certain beauty in the world. You simply have to look for it.