Thursday, September 3, 2009

#9 Postcard: Sunrise Over Fallujah

Dear Uncle Richie,

I had to go to the bathroom so badly, but as I went to open the door an Iraqi came out, his hand cusped over Captain Miller’s mouth. I saw his AK-47 and quickly shot his face. I saw the other man in the bathroom searching through his jacket. I tried to tell him to stop! Don’t move! But no words came out. I pointed my nozzle at his chest he struggled and I don’t remember firing, just seeing his head explode against the wall of the bathroom. I now rolled as someone who had killed. That was not a name I enjoyed, neither carrying nor the thoughts of it. I checked if Miller was ok. She said that I had saved her life but hadn’t saved her soul from being ripped apart. Oh how I wish I could have.



1 comment:

Annette Lyon said...


That just about made my heart stop.

on marriage

'Will you, um, marry me?' I haven't seen you in weeks! You don't look happy or excited about the prospect of our marriage! You're asking me to give up my - my freedom, my joie de vivre for an institution that fails as often as it succeeds? And why should I marry you anyway? I mean, why do you wanna marry me? Besides some bourgeois desire to fulfill an ideal that society embeds in us from an early age to promote a consumer capitalist agenda?