Sunlight and Fire
Sunlight and Fire:
Sunlight filters in through the wooden slats illuminating the hay covered floor. The paint is cracked and peeling. Dust fills the air; clearly visible in the bright rays of light that permeate the muggy air. It seems quiet and serene in the small, enclosed barn. The air gives away no sign of the war raging on outside the wooden walls. That is probably why the couple now lounging in a far less well light corner of the barn has picked this particular spot. The sense of calm that can be found permeates them and lets them -for a minute- feel at ease.
All of the gunfire and fear that hangs heavy outside these walls has seemed to leave, vanishing like dew on a hot summer day. It has given them that much needed breath -inhale, exhale- integral to holding onto their sanity.
It has given them the time to turn to each other. To see each other. To, away from the prying eyes of the company, touch each other. An almost long lost pleasure they had not been able to languidly indulge in since back at camp. Recently it had always been rushed and rough but now, in this place. Here it at least seemed like it was all winding down but it wasn’t it was truly just the start of what they both knew was going to be a long war but not in here.
Here the world was slowing. In these paint peeled walls the war had stopped and it was just them, together. All responsibility long forgotten in these few precious moments of peace they found in each other.
Then, just as it had come, it was gone. Shattered in a few short seconds as the sounds of screams and violently spoken “fucks” rented the air, forcing its way into their senses. They were assaulted by the screams of an injured man, a fellow soldier. The panicked cries for a medic and the harsh cursing and assignment of blame brought them forth from their reverie and sent them scurrying. Scrambling back into recently discarded cloths and equipment.
They were out the door and running. The sounds of war were back and once again the world was moving at double time. The fear and fire hung in their hearts like an ever-present reminder of the changes burning through them, around them. The soft rays of sunlight were really a fire, the world was burning.
Sunlight filters in through the wooden slats illuminating the hay covered floor. The paint is cracked and peeling. Dust fills the air; clearly visible in the bright rays of light that permeate the muggy air. It seems quiet and serene in the small, enclosed barn. The air gives away no sign of the war raging on outside the wooden walls. That is probably why the couple now lounging in a far less well light corner of the barn has picked this particular spot. The sense of calm that can be found permeates them and lets them -for a minute- feel at ease.
All of the gunfire and fear that hangs heavy outside these walls has seemed to leave, vanishing like dew on a hot summer day. It has given them that much needed breath -inhale, exhale- integral to holding onto their sanity.
It has given them the time to turn to each other. To see each other. To, away from the prying eyes of the company, touch each other. An almost long lost pleasure they had not been able to languidly indulge in since back at camp. Recently it had always been rushed and rough but now, in this place. Here it at least seemed like it was all winding down but it wasn’t it was truly just the start of what they both knew was going to be a long war but not in here.
Here the world was slowing. In these paint peeled walls the war had stopped and it was just them, together. All responsibility long forgotten in these few precious moments of peace they found in each other.
Then, just as it had come, it was gone. Shattered in a few short seconds as the sounds of screams and violently spoken “fucks” rented the air, forcing its way into their senses. They were assaulted by the screams of an injured man, a fellow soldier. The panicked cries for a medic and the harsh cursing and assignment of blame brought them forth from their reverie and sent them scurrying. Scrambling back into recently discarded cloths and equipment.
They were out the door and running. The sounds of war were back and once again the world was moving at double time. The fear and fire hung in their hearts like an ever-present reminder of the changes burning through them, around them. The soft rays of sunlight were really a fire, the world was burning.