A List, a Nightmare, and an Epiphany
Another night meant another raid. Leslie’s neighborhood had been hit hard. Whole blocks of houses were bombed and consumed by fire, and there were many casualties. Exhausted, Leslie rested on the sofa. A strong cup of black tea, made stronger with a double shot of Caroline’s whiskey, was beside him on the coffee table. He had learned not to be optimistic about the Blitz or too complacent. Given the history of the past several weeks, one thing was certain: there was always another night of bombing; it never ended.
He forced his mind to travel back to this evening’s raid, and the events came back in bits and pieces: Kevin, his best volunteer, his face gritty from ash and smoke, kneeling down to help him lift an injured man onto a stretcher; Leslie telli
