Nightmare
We talk languidly, I've been coming here on day trips for a while now, to check out their facilities and chat with people about their history. It's my job, I collect their history and put it in little boxes for the army and hope that something comes of it.
It's hot out, but not too hot, the sun has just risen over the mountains to the north of us. Soon it will be too hot to work, the desert will cook us if we don't get into shade, so we duck into a long-established tent.
My dad sits with me, he's gotten into these little trips I make. He likes learning history as much as I do and it gets him out of the house, a rarity now that Mom's gone. I mention something about staying over tonight, he gets upset. I'm still his little daughter, I guess. The seargant on duty stops mid-coffee sip and explains how I probably don't want to do that, there are fleas, and more things I'll probably not want to deal with. She's sweet, but I wasn't really serious.
We start to talk about the tent structures when we all see something arc through the sky and fall to earth several klicks away, exploding and pluming a thin jet into the sky. Everything goes silent, there is a faint whine to the air, and I find myself standing and covering my ears, yelling for others to do the same.
Then dust begins to rise, faster and faster as the plume expands, and suddenly I realize in terror that I'm running away from it, against the back canopy of the tent --
And then there is heat, and tension, and pain like nothing I've experienced.
And then a sudden slackness as everything goes dark and I feel like I'm drifting.
*
I awaken with a shock, trembling all over. The faint sound of birds cheeping greets me from his window. I look over at him, lying on his back, sprawled across the bed and yet somehow nudged to the very edge of his side. All I want is to touch something. Make sure I'm still real. I shuffle under the blankets over to him and hold his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. He barely stirs, his breath rising and falling in a stable pattern, rather than my ragged breaths. I want to tell him, but I would never wake him with something like this. So instead I think about my family, and how much I love them, and how much I love him, and I cry, long and hard.
It's hot out, but not too hot, the sun has just risen over the mountains to the north of us. Soon it will be too hot to work, the desert will cook us if we don't get into shade, so we duck into a long-established tent.
My dad sits with me, he's gotten into these little trips I make. He likes learning history as much as I do and it gets him out of the house, a rarity now that Mom's gone. I mention something about staying over tonight, he gets upset. I'm still his little daughter, I guess. The seargant on duty stops mid-coffee sip and explains how I probably don't want to do that, there are fleas, and more things I'll probably not want to deal with. She's sweet, but I wasn't really serious.
We start to talk about the tent structures when we all see something arc through the sky and fall to earth several klicks away, exploding and pluming a thin jet into the sky. Everything goes silent, there is a faint whine to the air, and I find myself standing and covering my ears, yelling for others to do the same.
Then dust begins to rise, faster and faster as the plume expands, and suddenly I realize in terror that I'm running away from it, against the back canopy of the tent --
And then there is heat, and tension, and pain like nothing I've experienced.
And then a sudden slackness as everything goes dark and I feel like I'm drifting.
*
I awaken with a shock, trembling all over. The faint sound of birds cheeping greets me from his window. I look over at him, lying on his back, sprawled across the bed and yet somehow nudged to the very edge of his side. All I want is to touch something. Make sure I'm still real. I shuffle under the blankets over to him and hold his arm, resting my head on his shoulder. He barely stirs, his breath rising and falling in a stable pattern, rather than my ragged breaths. I want to tell him, but I would never wake him with something like this. So instead I think about my family, and how much I love them, and how much I love him, and I cry, long and hard.