“It has been quite extraordinary weather, wouldn’t you say Sir?”
The tailor zipped the measuring tape around the Captain’s chest, his chattering filling the silence as the soldier looked out into the street. His wife and kids were waving at him from the pavement, pressing their faces against the glass while the tailor’s back was turned. The Captain stifled a laugh.
The tailor flinched. “Sir, Please,..”
The shop was gone.
Only the desert remained. Only the bullets. Only the blood. Only Private Allen’s twisted body as he begged for help.
The Captain collapsed into tears at the words.
“…. Sir,……… please,…..”.
(c) Tim Austin 2016. Promo image by Jacob Valerio via Unsplash.
PTSD is a harrowing burden that I would not wish on anyone. I hope in this story that people reflect a little on it with compassion and care.
I’m looking for new one word story titles all the time! Tell me yours in the comments section or tweet them to me@ using the hashtag #onewordonestory.
I’ll see you again tomorrow for “Suspicion”.