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Life After Deathi. He sat, exhausted, on the cold, grimy concrete floor. He wore little but thin, cotton boxers and a military issued t-shirt; his other belongings sat in a pile in the corner, damp with gasoline. Tears streamed down his face in sticky streams as his calloused fingers fondled his dog tags; he had nothing left. They had stripped and beaten him; kept him in this forbidding cell for so long that he no longer knew what day, week, or even what month it was.Life After Death by ~QueenOfTheAir
He thought of his wife, whom he may never get to see again. How he should have patched his rough marriage before getting enlisted; his love for her had been so strong when they wed, how much had changed in those nine short months before he left?
He thought of his daughter, whom he hadn't gotten to know before leaving her; she had been a mere three months old when he bid his farewell. He remembers that she had wild blonde curls, just like her