Words of Love

“When would you compare a girl to a winter’s morning,” I asked, “Or say her hair was like the song of birds? Her eyes like white fire?” I pronounced the word H-wite to tease him.

“I don’t know,” Jeremy said, “I guess when you are in love.”

“Are you in love, Jeremy?” I asked. I heard all the showers had stopped. Other recruits would be getting back to their bunks soon.

“I remember a walk in Paris, on our way to see the Louvre. We were part of a large group, but she gave me a few minutes. A few minutes just for me. We talked and I felt like I meant something. Then she went on and, as she was fixing her scarf, I saw her hair fall softly onto her shoulders. I think… I think I might be.”

I smirked and then I lay down, my face to the wall. Others rolled in, a wave of testosterone and hot blood, with shouts and laughs. The room came alive with card playing, singing, and banter.

I took out a photo and looked at it. In my head, I started going through reassembling an M-16 to stop myself from trembling.

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