The chairs aren't exactly comfortable, or maybe its the awkwardness of this trip down memory lane, the emotional toll its taking on her. Me, well, I've given up trying to figure out my emotions. Too many ways I can lose control with negative, shall we say, results. It really only takes the briefest reference to …
Tag: Bomber
What Price Memory, Part VII
We continued to sit, her sobbing into my shoulder, I in mute rage at the pain she has suffered because of a decision to help me so long ago. As she quiets, I could still feel, taste the pain hovering around her, hear the shuddering of her breath, the thunder of her heart, as if …
What Price Memory, Part VI
“That's not the way it happened.....” I start to reply. “Damn it......” Do memory paths cause physical pain? I have no idea, I am no fucking neurosurgeon. What I can tell you is that whatever the fuck is happening this night, right now, it hurts like ever fucking hell. When I feel a slightly clammy hand …
What Price Memory, Part V
I turn to eating, just eating. Anything to distract me at this point from the pain of the dinner. Yes, I had asked, and yes, I had insisted. What drives us to know the unknown? I mean, did it really matter? They were here now and as long as they all learned the truth, did …
What Price Memory, Part IV
I withdraw my hand from the table, overcome with powerful emotions. Anger and frustration from hearing about a life and family denied to me, joy and amusement at Olivia's antics. Remembered desire from a past long gone. I sit there, staring into....something. Should we really learn of what could have been? Or am I truly …
What Price Memory, Part III
I've suffered a lot of pain in my life, assuming any of my memories are true. Which is debatable, at best. I remember bullets in Iraq, grenade fragments in Afghanistan. What I do know, is that just because something heals quickly, does not mean that the pain is any less severe, you just don't die …
What Price Memory, Part II
I study her as the sommelier bringS the wine she ordered, offering it first to me, and with a shake of my head, going through the dance of the sniff and taste with her. Somewhere, a thought chases through my head, probably from Henri, that the tasting was irrelevant, that originally, the sniff was just …
What Price Memory, Part I
I wasn't sure why I was so nervous. She'd told me along time ago that she didn't want to marry me, and then kept a life altering secret from me. If dinner at an expensive French restaurant was the price to pay to find out information about my daughter, then I was willing to pay, …
What Price Memory: Intro
They'd had some good times over the last few days, the three of them. Awkward at times, of course, but good, he'd thought. But she kept doling out the information slowly, and he had a soldier's dichotomy of immense patience while on or planning the mission, and almost none in his personal life. Whether it …
Making Up for Lost Time: Part I
Two mornings later, as he was finishing his training course, two of the three most important women in his life approached. As he finished the combat shooting course he and Bryan had built, the youngest started to walk through it, when the elder grabbed her shirt from behind, pulling her to a stop. There they …
Interrogating the Past: Part II
When he had walked into the medical bay after a couple hours on the roof, he’d sat on the edge of the bed, holding the hand of the still motionless form of his lover. “I don’t know what I am doing baby, I really don’t know how to be a father, but I want to, …
Mending Fences and Digging Holes: Part VI
They’d left the game room and headed out towards the other areas of the recreation complex. Big enough apparently for most people, it had little signs on all the crossing walk paths. He’d memorized the map before he left Tempest Point. It had only taken a couple of minutes. Were civilians so lazy they …
Mending Fences and Digging Holes: Part V
Brett paid after dessert and they returned to the arcade for awhile, Olivia bouncing from game to game, hitting anything that smacked of racing especially, and returning multiple times to the bike games. She competed against Brett, and sometimes Amelia, but always won the racing games, no matter what they were. As they …
Mending Fences and Digging Holes: Part IV
They'd found her already driving thru simulated water in the game Wave Rider, and after some hesitation, Brett joined in, coming in a respectable second out of two. Then, jumping to the new Pac-Man attack, Amelia proved victorious, as the last Pac-man standing, having devoured first Olivia and then Brett. “How about this one?” …
Mending Fences and Digging Holes: Part III
“I hope that you like it....I wasn't really sure what you might want to do. I don't really go out that much, other than.....,” he paused, “some clubs occasionally.” They had just sat down at the table, but the ambient noise level made it kind of hard to hear, the sounds of a hundred …
Last Dreams 