I want to escape my sober thoughts and become undone under foreign skies.
His feet are large. His hair is hard.
He’s a child, all of thirteen with an incipient moustache and the greasy face of adolescence. I concentrate on his deed, but I can’t threaten him. He spits at my window as I roll it up.
I want a girl who’s dying.
Now they had religion. It was time to buy a house.
Character development is an elastic exercise. It is also a moral one.
We finally know how our mothers felt when we were the ones in uniform.
Soldiers were for war, not airports.
I had seen this before, in Iraq.
Part of our mission was to directly fight insurgents; the other part was to stabilize and protect communities that were being terrorized by small groups of radicalized insurgents.