Anniversary On their anniversary he calls her during a mortar attack, hunkers down, tells her he loves her, small arms clattering in the background, an RPG whooshing above his head. She tells him what she'll do when he returns; he drinks rum straight from the bottle, toasts their year together, imagines what it will be like back in her arms, everything always so alive. His cell phone chirps, warns him his battery is dying. He signs off, her arms his only objective: another round plunks short of his position, thunks in a shower of Babylonian sand. Tour over, extended twice, he returns to find she's been unfaithful, but he can't let go. He searches her bedroom, her computer, the same way he searched the houses of insurgents, looking for weapons, women cowering in a corner, a sullen look in the eyes of the men. What he finds determines who lives, who dies. Search over, he walks out of his house past the GM plant shut down for good, past a block of houses, every other one foreclosed, just another long patrol. He buttons his field jacket against the cold, considers it simply another exercise in escape and evasion; he knows he has to learn a whole new set of skills, new weapons, again, simply to survive
Anniversary.
Ritterbusch, Dale E.
Anniversary On their anniversary he calls her during a mortar attack, hunkers down, tells her he loves her, small arms clattering in the background, an RPG whooshing above his head. She tells him what she'll do when he returns; he drinks rum straight from the bottle, toasts their year together, imagines what it will be like back in her arms, everything always so alive. His cell phone chirps, warns him his battery is dying. He signs off, her arms his only objective: another round plunks short of his position, thunks in a shower of Babylonian sand. Tour over, extended twice, he returns to find she's been unfaithful, but he can't let go. He searches her bedroom, her computer, the same way he searched the houses of insurgents, looking for weapons, women cowering in a corner, a sullen look in the eyes of the men. What he finds determines who lives, who dies. Search over, he walks out of his house past the GM plant shut down for good, past a block of houses, every other one foreclosed, just another long patrol. He buttons his field jacket against the cold, considers it simply another exercise in escape and evasion; he knows he has to learn a whole new set of skills, new weapons, again, simply to survive