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Rated: E · Other · Other · #1877163
Writer's Cramp Entry 7/1 637WC
The sun was warm on my face, coloring the back of my eyelids dark red. A contented sigh slid through my lips as his nimble, versatile fingers slid nimbly through my hair. "Feels nice." I murmured softly.

"Does it?" Warren's rich baritone rumbled through me. I nodded, adjusting my head on his lap as I did.

"I miss you." My eyes slide open as I speak, reaching up to search his face. Honey brown eyes shy from my gaze as he looks up and away, to something that I can't see.

"I know, honey." He murmurs, his sculpted mouth turning down in a regretful frown. "I miss you too, but you know I had to go. There ain't no army without the soldiers." His eyes returned to mine, crinkling ever so slightly in a smile. "And besides, you look like you been doing jus' fine without me."

I sighed, and shifted up so that I sat back against his chest. "What about you? You look alright."

He shrugged. "I'm okay."

A smirk tugged at my mouth. "You got someone to dress you over there?" I asked with a raise of my eyebrows.

"Naw, I dress myself." He says proudly.

I laughed. "Not well, darlin. Plaid doesn't become you." He answered me with nothing but a smile. "But really." My voice was nothing but a whisper. "What's it like there?"

The birds quit singing as he spoke, low and rough. "You don't want to know."

"I do."

There was a long moment that left me wondering if he would answer. And then he spoke again. "You wouldn't believe it, Jackie. Everything is so loud, and you c'n hear the screams from every direction." Some say that a picture is worth a thousand words. But now, his voice created a wasteland out of the peaceful meadow where we lay. I could see the smoke, hear the guns firing, taste the gritty dust on my tongue. "No one fights with steel no more. It ain't fair, when you hide behind walls and get in a lucky shot. They.. They never get a chance. I.. I want to come home so badly, Jackie." He buried his face in my hair. "Every day, and every night. But, I just gotta.." He paused. "I just gotta keep goin'. For you, and for the baby, when she comes. I want her to grow up without the war." I felt my throat close up. "When- When I firs' got out here, I had no idea. Everyday I see a friend, a comrade die, and.. I can't see the end Jackie. If I can't see it, how c'n I lead my men out there, and keep them going? Will it ever end?"

I turned and threw my arms around him, and he threw himself into my grasp, the tears flowing freely now. "It's gonna be okay, baby. It'll be okay." Somewhere, the sound of a baby crying tugged at me. Before I could even cry out a farewell, he melted away from my grasp, and I was clutching at empty air. Falling.. falling..

A gasp wrenched through my lungs, and I shot up. The hard surface of my mattress bounced uncomfortably under me, and I was back in my own bedroom. "Shhh..." I murmured, slipping out of bed and reaching for the bundle in the crib. "It's alright, Mama's here." A tiny hand curled around my thumb, and her sobs quieted against my neck. "It's okay." I murmured, but my eyes wandered up to the gold medallion that hung above the crib.

In loving memory of a husband, father, and commanding officer that touched countless lives.
Warren Roy Bently


The tears streamed silently down my cheeks. It would never be alright for Warren again.
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