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In Rememberance (standard:drama, 1008 words) | |||
Author: Thomas Keister | Added: Feb 22 2001 | Views/Reads: 3608/2221 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
A disillusioned war veteran prepares to take a chilling last stand for the memories of that which he fought for. | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story on the previous March. This time he found himself smiling, eyes misting nonetheless, as the years rolled by in various shades of gray, sepia, and grainy color. One minute, he was in his beat-up Packard popping the question while Jimmy Cagney blazed across the screen before them, the next he was storming Omaha Beach, trying not to drown, get shot, or shit himself. Two out of three wasn't bad, he figured. By the time he got to the last book, he was laughing more than crying, and the feeling was oddly settling. Throwing on a sweater and a jacket, Arthur grabbed his keys and went out to warm up the Eldorado. Backing out of the driveway, Arthur knew he was really going to miss that house. There had been some great memories, of course, like the time Henry Feldman had passed out in the shrubs that one New Year's, or the time Aaron, his punk-ass nephew, was visiting and ended up whipping the neighborhood bully's ass in the front yard. Maureen had been mad, sure, but boy did she raise holy hell when Arthur had taken him to Baskin Robbins to celebrate. Arthur had shrugged it off because that was a proud moment for him and Aaron, even if he was a punk-ass. Meeting the Mayor's aide, he shook hands as firmly and sincerely as anyone else, slipping his hands back into his jacket pockets afterwards. The button was right there and ready. He knew the news would whore the whole mess out for everything it was worth, and his family would be pestered beyond belief, but at least they would be forced to take stock of things. No one had any respect anymore, but that would change. Sometime the battle was a losing effort, but it always had to be fought to the end. Tweet
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