The sun hung heavy in the sky and the sweat stung his eyes. This was one fucked day. He had felt an uneasiness as he awoke in the morning and now he was sure that today was fucked.
They had entered the village as usual and nodded to the elder just as they had every other time they walked into this village. The elder nodded back and then the crack of the AK-47 sounded. Bullets whizzed by and there was shouting, Murphy was dead, Hughes was injured and he fired wildly in the direction of the bullets.
When things calmed down they took a survey of the area to make sure it was safe. It was then that he saw her. She lay there in a bed of flowers under the window where her mother threw the water from the dirty dishes. They had planted flowers in this godforsaken hellhole. Her eyes were wide open and he could have pictured her jumping up to play, expect for the bullet hole between her eyes.
He reached down and closed her eyes, then plucked a flower and placed it in his helmet. "This will never happen again," he thought as the tears washed away the grime from the firefight.
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