Tongue Tied

Just feeling like some midsummer flash fiction. 300 words. You know the drill. I’m not a fool. I know the odds are against me. I know that at the end of this day, my blood will soak the earth beneath my feet. My eyes will be shuttered. My heart silent. Today is a day of death and destruction, most likely my own. But I’m still here, gripping my weapon, my fingers moist and my breathing shallow. I wouldn’t say I’m not afraid. I’m definitely afraid.  Terrified, even. But not of death. Death I can handle. But I fear living in a world controlled by these monsters. I’ve been a soldier all my life. I have stood on many battlefields and watched countless men die, some by my own hand. Yet, I know that today is not like any other war I’ve encountered. For the monsters we’re facing aren’t the flesh and blood of man, but the slithery steel of something unknown. We don’t know how to kill them, not really. We aren’t even sure they can be killed. We don’t know if our weapons w

1. Vague, "I don't want to talk about it, but I'm gonna put it on FB" statuses. You might just want to put "pay attention to me!" instead. 2. "My husband/wife/baby/mother/dog is the best/hottest/cutest/greatest EVER!" Firstly, you don't want people to agree that your spouse is the most attractive, do you? And if we agree that your parent/child is the greatest ever, that makes it look like our own relatives are crap. Express your love with more imagination. 3. Multiple exclamation points!!!!! Just calm it down. 4. Lol. Are you? Really? 5. Using someone else's status as a place to sell your wares or advertise your business. I'm sure your essential oils are amazing, but if you use me as free advertising, I'm never going to want to buy them ever. 6. Public conversations that should be private, like family fights or telling your spouse to pick up tampons on the way home. 7. Multiple whiny statuses in a day. Once, I'll for

I try to maintain a certain amount of distance from firefighting tragedies, but sometimes, they can't be ignored. Like 9/11. Like Christmas Eve last year. And like the one in Arizona this past weekend. Nineteen elite firefighters, gone.  All men in their twenties and thirties, men with wives, young children, parents, siblings, friends. So many broken hearts. I watched an interview with Julianne Ashcraft, whose husband was one of the fallen, and she shared how she and her husband had been texting back and forth the day he died, sharing photos of the kids, talking about church, talking about the fire he was fighting. And saying I love you or I miss you a lot. It was just a little too  familiar. It's the same for soldier's wives, for police officer's wives...you ignore it on a constant basis (because if you didn't, you couldn't function) but always in the back of your mind is the notion that your husband might not come home. I wouldn't say tha