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Orwell

Dave Foster

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24/4/98
Lots of bodies lately. Probably won't be accepted, but I sent them in anyways. Want to talk to this guy named Lou, seems like he'd have some interesting things to say.

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'They will flock to the colors, no doubt.'

 

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28/4/98

I haven't seen combat like this since Shoreridge. Sanctuary's really been fighting tooth-and-nail for any victory they can get. We're meant to finish our job here tomorrow.

Here's hoping that I make it through in one piece.

 

Note: took more photographs, but it was incredibly dark. Not much ended up showing in the end.

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12/5/98

 

FedNet's accepting less and less of my shots nowadays. They decided on this one after the tattered corpse in the foreground was cropped out.

Spilling blood on holy ground is something disdainful, but this place was far from holy.

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25/5/98

 

A nice change of pace from photographing the field. This may as well have been a battlefield, considering how much damage the city took, and how many dead there were. Of the photos I took, these were the ones that were accepted. I think of all the bodies I've seen, I find the bloated corpses of the drowned to be some of the most unsettling. Despite extensive lessons, the thought of drowning still skeeves me up. I still remember when I was young, and I saw my first dead body. A tropical storm came at us outside of typhoon season. We were totally unprepared, and a lot of people ended up dying. I was with my friend, a few days after the storm passed. I thought it was debris, or trash at first. We moved closer, pushing through the knee-high water in our galloshes. We saw the wet back of his, her- I couldn't, and still can't tell- shirt, and the backpockets of their pants slip underneath the surface of the water where they floated, completely motionless. You could see the outline of their submerged body underneath the water, their legs dragging along the obscured pavement, looming over something hidden in the water. I forgot how I old I was.

 

 

 

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