Darkshine Raven

Just A Life
2003-12-06 21:47:46 (UTC)

Doug Needed a Smoke

Doug Needed a Smoke

A black ink pen touches paper and drifts along the
surface. Brief sentences look like a third grader's
stunted writing. Sweat drips off Doug's brow and runs
the ink in a little blob on the paper. His hands shake
and shiver as he works around commonplace words about
his life.

'Everything is well here. I like the food all right
and I've really been kicking ass at the physical
training. I'm at the top of my platoon...'

His nicotine-stained fingers set down the pen and
instinctively reach into his pocket for a cigarette.
Doug finds none and lets out a heavy sigh. He tips his
chair back and examines what he'd written to her.
Eyebrows furrow and he tries to remember what it was
he'd wanted to say. Gently setting himself back on
the floor he resumes writing. His pen jots down
another sentence or two and then finishes up with a
brief, "I hope you're doing well." He dashes his
signature on the bottom and starts to folds the letter
up.

The desk drawer squeals open and Doug pulls an
envelope out, stamps and addresses it properly. He
looks at the letter briefly and then implusively
unfolds it.

He scribbles, "I love you" at the bottom of the letter
with a jittery hand and re-folds the paper. It slides
easily into the envelope and Doug closes the flap
before he can pull the letter back out and choke out
his words of endearment. He stands up from the desk
and walks through the corridor and out the door at the
end of the hall. The wind is blowing so hard against his
body
he has to fight to make it to the mail drop.

Doug looks at the letter in his hand and frowns. He
tries to spit the bad taste out of his mouth but it's
far too stubborn. Grabbing the envelope on both sides,
he rips it in half. Again and again he rips it until
there's hardly a piece big enough to pass for
confetti. He turns and follows the wind away from the
mail drop, tossing the shredded letter in a trashcan
nearby. He looks down the black hole opening of the
trash for a moment and then heads back to his bunk
with his hands deep in his nicotine-free pockets. At
that moment all he could think was, "I really need a
smoke."





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