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Modern warfare

In 100, by Lara on November 26, 2018 at 10:47 am

Target. Click. Zip. Flames.

Another threat eliminated. Another shot of congratulatory whiskey. Another dose of valium. Another night out. Another bet on red. Another win. Another hand around another waist. Another drink. Another drink. Another. Drink.

Home. Not alone. But alone.

Anger again. Left alone with only the rising blood pressure to warm the bed.

The clock again.

Morning again.

Uniform again. What do the stars mean.

Look in the mirror. Punch the mirror. Take it down.

Wrap knuckles. Ice and salt.

Coffee. And whiskey. And valium.

Target. Click. Zip. Flames.

Someone’s father. Someone’s mother. Someone’s child. Alone. Alone. Alone.

  1. Holy crap, yikes—this is it. This has gotta be it. Screened from the enemies, screened even from your brothers in arms, screened by drugs and alcohol, isolated from what you’ve done, what you’re doing. It’s chilling. Yes, this is it.

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