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(c) 2003 copyright by SJTJ (a.k.a. Naive)
Copyright information: This story is the sole property of SJTJ (a.k.a. 
Naive). No one has the right to alter, distribute, or sell this story 
with out my written permission. I do hear by give the right to give or 
display this story to anyone who wants it as long as it's free of 
charge. Changes and follow-up stories should have my permission. Any 
grammatical or spelling changes are permissible as long as it does not 
alter the concept.
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This story is intended for mature audiences. You must be 18 or older to 
read this story. This story contains adult situations and sexual 
content. If subject matter of this type offends please DO NOT read any 
further. Thank you.
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A sign of the times: even I wrote a war story.

***************
   Memories
   by Naive(c)   <shattered_mind@nospam.hotmail.com>
***************

As he laid there gasping for breath, blood splattered across his chest, 
he realized he was dieing. The harsh sun baked down on him and sweat 
beaded across his face. He wanted to reach up and wipe it away but the 
effort was too much for him.

It was hard to see with the light blaring down on him. His sunglasses 
laid shattered beside him, almost as broken as he.

Closing his eyes he tried to think of what was important. Something he 
could take with him. Something to hold close as he took his last 
breath.

The image of his wife and his daughter came to him. They were his life. 

Amy, his sweet Amy; her first birthday was only a month away. How he 
wanted to be there: to see her grow. And those hands those tiny little 
hands, how could he not remember that last little touch to his face, 
with her delicate little fingers?

And of course Barb, his wife. She was always in his thoughts. Not a 
happy moment had passed in his life without her.

He remembered the night before he was sent off; it shot through him 
like the burning metal embedded in his chest.

Holding her close, he took her gently, savoring each moment that they 
were together. Her scent so strong: they'd spent most of the day in bed 
together. Barb's mom was watching Amy so they could have this time 
together. Caressing her body with his hands he tried to memorize her 
every curve. God, she was everything to him. Slowly he increased his 
pace, bringing her closer to the edge, he could feel her muscles 
tightening around him. Trying to pull him in. But he teased, holding 
the moment off, knowing just how to build her wanting to a need. As his 
own time grew nearer, he started thrusting deep into her, driving her 
body to shivering release. Locking his mouth to hers, he drew in her 
orgasmic breath, drew in her essence, then expelled his deep into her 
womb. Their tongues played as bliss slowly faded into comfortable 
warmth.

Looking at her he saw tears running down her face, not tears of joy 
though, and something deep in her eyes. Pulling her close he whispered, 
"What's wrong?"

"This could be our..."

"Don't say it." He interrupted. "I'm not going to leave you or Amy. 
Just don't say it."

"But..."

"No," he said with passion, "I'm coming back. You know that I always 
keep my word. I'm coming back."

They laid there together for hours...

"Hold on!" His wife's voice roared at him, "You're going to be all 
right." No, something was wrong. Blinking. He heard the voice again.

"Hang on soldier! Just hang on!" It was a man. A man in uniform. He was 
moving. No, they both were. Closing his eyes he saw his wife again, 
then everything went black.

When he woke next, he was wearing an oxygen mask. He was in a hospital; 
well, more like a tent. A doctor was standing over him looking at a 
chart.

"Ah, I see you're awake." The doctor smiled. "That's good. You should 
be out of here soon, but I don't think you'll be running around anytime 
soon." Rummaging in his pocket he pulled out a gold chain with a bent 
warped piece of metal on the end. "You know you're a lucky guy. I think 
that this little thing saved your life." Placing it in his hand, the 
doctor patted him on the shoulder and walked away.

Looking at it, he could still see some of his blood on the cracked bent 
metal. It was his locket. The locket he just bought to put the picture 
of his wife and daughter in; so he could keep them close to his heart. 
His lips trembled as he held it to his chest. His family was his life, 
he needed no more proof than that.

The End.


  
mem