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There wasn’t a day she didn’t think about him.  It was pretty much 24/7, I mean it was only her in that small house of her’s.  She even dreams about him.  The dreams were great, they were together once again, and he was okay.  Totally fine.  But those were dreams, the reality of everything was that he wasn’t coming back for a long time.  Maybe not ever.  No.  She refused to think he wouldn’t come back.  He knew how to take care of himself, he was out there serving his country just like he wanted to.  But sometimes, there was that sliver of thought that made her think.  What would I do if he wasn’t ever going to be here by my side?  They’re supposed to be getting married when he comes home.  The engagement ring glitters on her thick fingers.  She never liked her fingers, or the huge hands they were attached to, but he didn’t seem to mind, and that was good enough for her.  She moves automatically to the dryer after it beeps, grabs the clothes, and tosses them into the pale green hamper.

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4 thoughts on “.

  1. You’re pretty much the only one that comments on any of my stories. I might be the only one that does because they just don’t know how great you are yet :). Yeah some stuff you write I don’t like as much as others but still, I can like whatever the hell I want. Just because I don’t like one thing you write doesn’t mean I should unsubscribe, no you’re good. I just ignore what I don’t like and focus on what I do like. You don’t suck, you give good explanations on things. Great Military point of view and I like that. And no, I don’t give comments because I feel bad, I comment when I see something I like haha. :).

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