He wore his fatigues on the plane and thought about how he would have to listen to his mom talk about the price of milk at the grocery store. He would have to listen to his dad talk about golf clubs. He would have to listen to his girlfriend talk about The Bachelor. It was all he had wanted for the whole last year, as he fought, as he killed people, as his brain normalized the sound of gunshots and the constant threat of attack. But when the wing of the plane tipped over his hometown, he felt the squeeze, he had to act normal now, and he didn’t think he could do it. Afghanistan had wiped out normal for him, and the thought of having to float through his society again made him wish he had died with his friends.
A little long this week, sorry. Friday Fictioneers: normally a story in 100 words prompted by a picture that Rochelle Wisoff-Fields posts every Wednesday. Photo Credit: ©Rochelle Wissoff-Fields