Back to nature

Grasses run down toward the river, which carries cold water over boulders that had been warmed by the sun. Flies swarm in the afternoon light. A soldier in uniform sleeps in the grass, unbothered by the flies. Tall grasses surround him like a coffin. A cloud comes between him and the sun. He’s cold and pale, but he doesn’t mind; he’s where he should be, a place to rest. He’s alone but he’s at peace. The smell of gladioli, a gentle breeze. He’d enjoy all this if his wounds hadn’t already bled him dry.