събота, май 01, 2010

4AM

The birds are out but not the sun, not even a pink hint of the sun. He hears the birds but does not even know what they are, what they look like. He's up in the glow of his laptop in his barracks but can't imagine the birds cause he's never noticed them in this desert. They are quiet at night until the early morning. He had some local lamb stew with the CO last night and chased it with good vodka and then skyped with Jill and then passed out and should be sleeping - two days without patrol - but he is up and the birds are punctuating the stillness with little pleading chirps.