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Agony
Relax. Breathe deep. Slow exhale. Yeah, that's it. Roll the shoulders. Loosen up. Relax. Don't think about the pain, the blood or the scream. Now, what did I say! Don't think about... ya know the consequences of hitting the target. Okay, all tensed up again. Relax. Gotta do this. It's simple, it's not like ya haven't done this before ya know. Damn, I wish there were another way. Oh, right! There is another way, but even I don't condone THAT! Yeah, yeah, sure. Sometimes it's necessary, I get that. But if I can avoid doing THAT, I will. Some people, whom I won't mention, are just too quick to use that method. Yepper. Too damn quick. Damn, I'm all tensed up again. Widen that stance and lean into it airman! Relax. Think... of nothing. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out. Slower. Innn. Ouuut. Innn. Ouuut. Calm. Still. Concentrate. Just let it happen. It's just the call of nature. Feel it happening. At the bottom of the breath... Ahhhhh...AAARRRRGGGG! "Colonel? Are you alright in there?" Slightly muffled, a way too close and all too familiar voice rang in my roaring ears; and once I could breath again, I answered, "Ah, yeah. Just peachy!" "Sir, you need to take your antibiotics. Maybe I should put back in the..." "No! No way. AND, for your information, I'm taking the damn antibiotics," I barked towards the woman who shadowed my every breath of late. Slowly I lowered myself to sit, spent over the emotion, breathing shallowly, riding out the burning pain that wasn't going away. "Sir, I beg to disagree, the evidence is in plain sight." Damn. I was so busy trying not to choke on it I forgot to hide it. A whole bowl of oatmeal, and I left the pill sitting in a melting heap next to it. Crap! Maybe she's right. Sigh. Maybe I'm not ready to go home. I can't even handle a simple subterfuge. And, damn, I'm tired. Even the effort of running my hands down my flushed face tires me. The wall sent out an invitation of support, which I quickly accepted, literally oozing to the floor to lean against it. Savoring the oh so slowly subsiding burn in one VERY, very private location, I closed my eyes against the too bight light and enjoyed the feel of the cool tiles that ate the excess heat from my skin. Relief was relative, just like time. I wonder what Carter would have to say about that? "Jack, need some help in there?" Danny? Is the Napoleonic Power Monger selling tickets or something? "For crying out loud! Can't a man have a little peace and privacy when he's in agony!" The End? Original Header Information:
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