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T." I could hear the laughter in his voice. It was the standard answer in my team to a dumb question.I thought about some long distance shooting I'd done with the team. I was never the best sniper on the team.I sighted in on a target. He was about 700 yards away, and Hollowpoint was spotting for me. Jim 'Hollowpoint' Hollerith was a better shooter than me, but I was only one of five shooters on this mission, and there were only four targets visible. I was an officer, not officially a shooter. So, I was on the gun today, more as a matter of pride and practice than a necessity. I had time for a quick look around the desert: everybody was tucked in, nice and invisible.The Master Chief was running the radio today. "Twenty seconds to go," sounded in my ear. There were four clicks, indicating that everybody was ready. I got an elbow from Hollowpoint as a reminder that I needed to acknowledge too. I sent a click."Ten," he continued the countdown.When he got to zero, the four targets outside. So I make your bed and lay down. Pretend I have every intention of sleep. But my claws they gently run down your spine. They tickle lightly at your skin. So your eyes open. You stare at me knowingly. I never though of being deaf until I was in your bed that night. I thought about how my eyes would talk to you. How you would stare down into my pupils and read my soul. And how like now, you would see the yearning in my eyes. Maybe I’ve had too much to drink. Yes? We have? Well, I don’t give a damn. And neither should you. You coil tightly around my body, press me hard into you. But you do it like a dance, like water. And you seem to coat every bit of me. With your flesh and with your hands. You’re drenching me and drowning me so I gasp for breath. How quickly your hands have moved, like spiders. Coated in webs of passion, I’m now burning alive. In my soul and in my mind. Like we were made into a cocktail, shaken and stirred. I’m dizzy, drunk, and forgetful, as the vodka, but you being.
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