zero three hundred no action all night. FOB Wilson looks abandoned as the desert landscape is covered in winter rain. the sound of rain is a soothing counter point the fire storm moving in. a gunbunny racks out for downtime in a war zone he never should have been. the fires rage. on the home front young lovers who should have settled without the games, feel the burn in their hearts. holding his jackets and hats flipping through old photos hoping he will call or email. praying to the ancestors with teary eyes for a miracle all winter for him to be home early spring. suddenly awoken from his rest like a lighting strike. FIRE MISSION TROOP! as the position is rocked by explosions. STAND TOO! officers holler re-configuring the defenses all night. FIRE MISSION TUBES! glaring across the killing fields realizing he may die alone. CONTACT RIGHT! covered in mud a gunner with every kill to stay alive his heart turns cold. DANGER CLOSE! and the fire fights raged on and on out of control. summer returned home resenting women who rejected his ring, looking down at relieved expressions not wanting a thing. catching a whiff of what has deterred her competition for him. the stench of a man who enjoyed death and the scent of women of the night. never returned from battlefields nothing from a former life is alright. and the fire fights raged on and on out of control.
Posted on: Sat, 23 Nov 2013 12:33:19 +0000
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