Remembering

Dzinski woke up swearing, trying to dig his way out of a foxhole as the mortars whistled from above. He rolled of the bed, and realized where he was. Sheets and blankets twisted around his legs. Kicking and pulling, he finally freed himself.

He leaned against his bed and caught his breath. His left hand reached for the bottle on the night stand, and finding it empty, he let it fall from his fingers. He stood and walked to the window, letting the memories recede.

The sun was coming up over the buildings and he readied himself for another day.

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