I was riding on the bus. Bright day. I squint to lessen the light, shapes of buildings passing, some trees. I close my eyes and remember.
Days first light through the trees, the smell of wood, wet leaves. Autumn. Maryland breeze. Running. Curving with the road into the dark of a thicker grove of trees. Dawn at Fort Meade. In training. Running in formation.
We quicken the pace, our drill sergeant pushing us up the hill. It’s a mind game, the quickening. Can’t keep up, our bodies cry out. Some fall back. Pain in the legs, the feet, crawling up, working into my hips, slowing me down.
Sweat-soaked shirts. The cool of the air, wet and thick. Even breathing requires work. The pat-pat-pat of feet on pavement. Passing street lights, one, two, three. The morning brightens.
I’m back in Iraq. That’s it? I dream of training? That’s what I miss? Oh Lord, save me from myself! That is far too hooah for the common man.
Maybe it was the ‘where’ more than the ‘what’ that you miss. Or, the ‘what’ that had a sense of security to it that’s somewhat lacking where you are now.
Dreams, who knows for sure with them? As long as it wasn’t a bad dream.
Have a good Memorial Day, Josh Salmons. I don’t know if much is done to mark the day where you are now, but I imagine it is on everyone’s mind at the very least.
As mentioned once or twice previously ;-), stay SAFE and be WELL.
Thanks Beth 😉 I will.
Yeah, just another day for us. Thanks for the thoughts!