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Practice and improve writing style. Write like Ernest Hemingway

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much minute animal life, which I could not clearly observe because of the great clouds of dust raised by the trucks. Arriving where the munition plant had been, some of us were put to patrolling about those large stocks of munitions which for some reason had not exploded, while others were put at extinguishing a fire which had gotten into the grass of an adjacent field; which task being concluded, we were ordered to search the immediate vicinity and surrounding fields for bodies. We found and carried to an improvised mortuary a good number of these and, I must admit, frankly, the shock it was to find that these dead were women rather than men. In those days women had not yet commenced to wear their hair cut short, as they did later for several years in Europe and America, #nd the most disturbing thing, perhaps because it was the most unaccustomed, was the presence, and, even more disturbing, the occasional absence of this long hair. I remember that after we had searched quite thoroughly for the complete dead we collected fragments. Many of these were detached from a heavy, barbed-wire fence which had surrounded the position of the factory and from the still existent portions of which we picked many of these detached bits which illustrated only too well the tremendous energy of high explosive. Many fragments we found a considerable distance away in the fields, they being carried farther by their own weight.

 

c No. I won't listen. You can't make me listen.'

 

'That's a whalebone handle,' the negro smiled. 'They don't make them any more. I didn't know how well you could take care of yourself and, anyway, I didn't want you to hurt him or mark him up no more than he is.'

 

Now he was facing the bull. Yes, his head was going down a little. He was carrying it lower. That was Zurito.

 

'I know,' said Johnson. The waitress came and he paid for the wine and his dinner.

 

I must let the first one get a good hold and hit him on the point of the nose or straight across the top of the head, he thought.

 

"I'd like to buy some if there's any place they sell it," he said.

 

"But you have not slept yet, old man," he said aloud. "It is half a day and a night and now another day and you have not slept. You must devise a way so that you sleep a little if he is quiet and steady. If you do not sleep you might become unclear in the head."

 

"They are good," he said. "They play and make jokes and love one another. They are our brothers like the flying fish."

 

He looked up at the sky and then out to his fish. He looked at the sun carefully. It is not much more than noon, he thought. And the trade wind is rising. The lines all mean nothing now. The boy and I will splice them when we are home.

 

“It was really about a quarter of an hour,” Mike objected.

 

“Everybody. They’re mad about it in New York. It’s just like the Fratellinis used to be.”

 

“You are a rotten dancer, Jake. Michael’s the best dancer I know.”

 

“All right,” said Brett. “Let’s have one.”

 

“You must have a drink with me,” he said. He seated himself, asking Brett’s permission without saying anything. He had very nice manners. But he kept on smoking his cigar. It went well with his face.

 

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