In keeping with the fact that the Forth of July is right around the corner (tomorrow) I decided to base my story on that and on what a young soldier might have to deal with.
The Photo by Kristoffer Sorensen:
John walked along the beach the sand squishing between his toes as he walked along. In the distance, beach-goers enjoyed their "beach-time" strolling, swimming, sunning all that fun stuff that he had once enjoyed doing. But now? Now he was only here because he needed to be because the therapist had said that the best way to get over the grief that was weighing him down was to face what happened, face the area in which it happened. Okay, so maybe this wasn't exactly where the incident had occurred, but it was the closest he could come for now. He knew that the people here on the beach (as well as all over the nation) would soon be settling down to the one of the biggest celebrations of the year - Hell he had once been one of those folks. Hamburgers, Hotdogs, Beer, Soda and the Fire Works, the whole shabang........ John shuttered at the thought of the word..... ShaBANG that's exactly what had happened and in in instant his best friend and comrade was gone, gone forever. Just a thin
cord like trigger, running across the darkened beach that they had landed on, not even noticed until it was too late.
Thoughts of celebration brought a bitter taste to his mouth. There would be no more celebrating for Timothy. Hell, he hadn't even gotten to celebrate his 21st
birthday (which was just a week from that day). Timothy had been excited about turning 21, about being able to legally go into any bar and order ANY drink he desired (he'd never get that opportunity now). And of course, Timothy had insisted that he would have to order his absolute favorite Chocolate
Custard.
John pulled himself back to the present.... Wallowing in the memories wasn't going to change anything, wasn't going to
alter the past. Best he deal with reality rather than memories and
myth.
The Five Words:
Custard
Cord
Birthday
Alter
Myth
