No Alarms and No Surprises

"Well a bloke might want a virgin, but a woman wouldn't want one, would she?"

Judging it not worth a reply, Mickey flicked a look toward a buzzard soaring up a couple of hundred feet above the jagged ridge of rocks where they lay. He squinted at the searing sun beyond it, careful not to look directly. The sky was as big as in a John Ford western, but who were the Cowboys and who were the Indians.

He was used to pains and aches around his body, but his feet were currently giving him the most trouble. In the heat they got soft and he could feel the pads of hard skin swimming about against his boots, sore blisters forming. Blood blisters.

To Mickey, in these conditions, the joy of getting to wash his feet was almost biblical in scale. Most of the time he simmered inside the uniform and body armour in the heat and dust. When he got the chance to relax on base, stripped down to just a vest and shorts, he could feel the pleasant evening breeze caressing his skin as he inhaled the spicy scent of marijuana from the Afghan's quarters. Something to look forward to.

It was well above 40 degrees now.  For some hours, since daybreak, they had been lying stationary and on the lookout for movement on the dusty track which stretched out across the bleached plain below him towards a group of small brown hills about a mile away. It seemed most unlikely to him that anything hostile would be moving at this time of the day, but what did he know. The bird up above was the only thing showing any energy and it was just floating on the thermals swirling up from the baked earth.

"Bollocks," he cursed quietly to himself as a large drop of sweat slid down from the tip of his eye-lash and plinked into his eye. Without thought, he twisted his hand up from the pistol grip below the rifle where he rested his cheek and wiped at the salty solution in his eye. "Shit," he swore again, with more venom this time, as a few grains of sand found their way into his eye. He blinked rapidly to dislodge them, reluctant to show any more movement than necessary.





About me

This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)