I wake. Something doesn’t feel right. I lay quiet, trying not to move or make a noise until I am sure of what’s going on. I hear the sounds of snoring and the clank of someone’s weapon banging on his bunk, or maybe against his web gear. Doesn’t sound threatening. It’s ok. Another minute goes by. The flash of fear is gone, but there is still a sense that something is out of place.
Let the Words Fly
Once, maybe twice a year I get to let loose
in salty language with others
who once wore the same cloth. We