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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Experience · #1346585
A matter of interpretation

November 11th Prompt: Monday is Veteran’s Day. Write a story or poem in tribute to our brave soldiers or tell us about a soldier you know giving us his/her story (or yours, if you served.)
Word Count:449

         The young man struggled to find his seat after leaving the filthy co-ed restroom. He found a sixth shot glass full of the local specialty, sake, waiting for him. The old teenager uttered a small whimper and was grateful for the Matchbox Twenty songs exploding out of the jukebox, keeping his fellow Marines from hearing his groan.

         "Last one Dailey." The six-foot man to Dailey's left slapped his bear mauling hand on Dailey's back, propelling the smaller man forward. "I told you, this aint like that Schlitz Malt-Liquor shit back in Lynchburg. This'll knock you on your ass."

         "Fuck you KZ." Dailey tried to hide his smile at the playful racial joke.

         "Look, he blushes too!"

         Dailey suppressed a booming laugh as he swallowed the rice wine in one short gulp. The hot liquid burned his throat. Another wave of dizziness clouded his senses and he placed his shaven head on the wooden bar.

         KZ pulled him to his feet and yelled in his ear. "We gotta move Marine. MP's will be making the rounds at 0200."

         Dailey brought his wrist to his hideous standard issue glasses as he swayed toward the exit. 0145. "That was fun, KZ."

         The early morning chill shook Dailey from his stupor. Clouds roved past the full moon, shining through a star filled sky. He could feel small pieces of drifting coral from the Pacific caress his face. The air is so clean here, not like back home. KZ left him standing near the curb while he attempted to flag down a local cab. Four of the rainbow colored cars sped by without slowing down. Dailey shook his head. "What the hell?"

         KZ shrugged his broad shoulders. "Don't know."

         Dailey stepped into the middle of the street as another cab approached, the alcohol in his system giving him a strange boldness. The screeching of brakes made the young man step aside as the car stopped. KZ tried the back door of the small Ford and found it locked.

         The driver rolled down his manual window and stuck his small head out. Anger was apparent on the older man's face as he spoke in broken English. "No Japanese, no Chinese, and no G.I. Okinawa only!" The old man gave himself a pleased nod as he rolled up his window and sped off.

         The buzz was gone and he stared up at KZ. "What the hell was that about Kralovitz?" The ensuing silence prompted Dailey to continue. "I thought we freed these people from Japan."

         Corporal Kralovitz's usual humor turned to serious as he contemplated Dailey's query. "They have never been free. We may think we're heroes. But these people see us as just another conqueror."

If you would like to see November 12th's entry, check out;
 Locked Demons Open in new Window. (13+)
The power of memories.
#1347192 by Joshiahis Author IconMail Icon
© Copyright 2007 Joshiahis (duggadugga at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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