Stolen from Dangerdean's journal

[geoff_green]

Invent a memory of me and post it in the comments. It can be anything you want, so long as it's something that's never happened. Then, of course, post this to your journal and see what an interesting life you might have had in a parallel universe.

Comments

[estrellada]

I don't know if this is *a* memory of you, but it always brightens my day how you enter every room with your epee ready and a flourish of your cloak.

[geoff_green]

Yeah, I learned that from the Scarlet Pimpernel. He was such a ham.

[dangerdean]

We'd both been in-country for eleven months. Eleven months of humid, sweaty hell in the foetid jungles of 'Nam, seconded to a Special Forces platoon just outside of Phu Ket. I was counting the days till I went home to my family in Nebraska, but you, ya gloryhound, had signed up for another tour. I just wanted to get home, go back to my job in the feed store, maybe write a book about this place. You lived to go on patrol, tiger-stripe camo paint on your face and ghillie suit slung over your pack.
We weren't thinking of these things as we played some five card stud in the enlisted mess, we just wanted to kill some time and drink some beer. We had no idea mortar rounds were about to whistle down on us and change both our lives. They did, though. And the memory that's most vivid is you, as chaos reigned around us and military discipline fell to bits, placing your cards down and saying "keep that hand. We'll finish this later." Cool, calm, business as usual.
Just business.

[geoff_green]

Actually, if I remember correctly, that was the day I received the energy from heaven (or maybe aliens) that implanted my interest in early music. I'd never even sung a motet before that day.