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Weekly Contest #325
[NOTE: The following story depicts Infantry Marines in combat. Foul language is used.] “Hey, Sarn’t, do you see that fuckin' pile of trash over there?”“Everyone, hold and set security! Over where, brother?”“See that lone tall building?”“Yeah, off on the right side.”“Directly below that, about a meter off the road.”“Yeah, I see it. What about it?”“I smell a fuckin' IED.”“What’s telling you that?”“Looks like some fresh turned dirt around it, and it seems pretty fuckin' loose and breezy 'n shit.”“Yeah, it rained last night, so that trash shoul...
Weekly Contest #244
[This story contains references to Post-Traumatic Stress, suicide, mental injury, and combat. Reader discretion is advised.] “Who’s that, Daddy?” My daughter looked up at me with big green eyes, full of her typical childlike curiosity. I pulled the slightly faded polaroid out of the picture book we were thumbing through and showed it to her a bit better. “I’m not sure, kiddo.” I studied the picture to try to make out the face, but the quality wasn’t very good. It was me and another guy in desert combat uniforms and plate carriers with our he...
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