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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Drama / Human Interest
- Subject: War & Peace
- Published: 07/17/2014
Dog Tags
Born 1950, M, from Clearwater/FL, United StatesHe was a mother's child, his boy-man body rent by a cruel construct of chemistry and metal. His now spiritless shell lay cruciform on the rust hued sand. Hollow eyes stared through a landscape of ashen skin, looking towards the heavens as if in one final, desperate prayer.
The medic recognized the face of his friend, someone with whom he had shared water, and stories of home and pain. He worked quickly to prepare the body for transport, before the tears welling up in his eyes made his task even more difficult. In the midst of his work he slipped the dog tags from the tattered remains of the fallen one’s shirt, then stopped. He looked at the small oblong monuments as though seeing them for the first time, reflecting not on what information was offered, but that which was omitted.
The name shown was “Hayes, Roger W”; the name favored by his mother was <i>tsisqua dayanisgv</i>, Calling Bird, because the very sound of his voice brought her such joy. It was decided that the anglicized name would be used, as it fit more precisely into the efficient space provided on forms, and within the confines of a small metal tag.
His ID number was a sterile aggregate of cryptic digits. What of the six fish he had caught on that bright spring day with his father? What of the two identical stones he found as a child, that stirred his innocent wonder, and of the seven arrows that were passed to him by his father and by the fathers before him? Were these life events somehow honored in this arcane number?
Blood: O Neg. No one who read this would ever know that his was the blood of warriors, and healers and holy ones before him. They would not know that this particular O Neg matched a hallowed patch of blood soaked sand in a land half a world away from the forests of his home.
He prayed to the Sky Father, and to the Earth Mother and honored the Four Directions. He found reverence in all things of the Creator; the four-leggeds, the ones that crawled, and swam and flew. Fire and Stone were his brothers, and Wind was his companion when he traveled. He honored his relations before him and those yet to be. All this was neatly encapsulated into two convenient words:
Religion: other
Dog Tags(Phil Penne)
He was a mother's child, his boy-man body rent by a cruel construct of chemistry and metal. His now spiritless shell lay cruciform on the rust hued sand. Hollow eyes stared through a landscape of ashen skin, looking towards the heavens as if in one final, desperate prayer.
The medic recognized the face of his friend, someone with whom he had shared water, and stories of home and pain. He worked quickly to prepare the body for transport, before the tears welling up in his eyes made his task even more difficult. In the midst of his work he slipped the dog tags from the tattered remains of the fallen one’s shirt, then stopped. He looked at the small oblong monuments as though seeing them for the first time, reflecting not on what information was offered, but that which was omitted.
The name shown was “Hayes, Roger W”; the name favored by his mother was <i>tsisqua dayanisgv</i>, Calling Bird, because the very sound of his voice brought her such joy. It was decided that the anglicized name would be used, as it fit more precisely into the efficient space provided on forms, and within the confines of a small metal tag.
His ID number was a sterile aggregate of cryptic digits. What of the six fish he had caught on that bright spring day with his father? What of the two identical stones he found as a child, that stirred his innocent wonder, and of the seven arrows that were passed to him by his father and by the fathers before him? Were these life events somehow honored in this arcane number?
Blood: O Neg. No one who read this would ever know that his was the blood of warriors, and healers and holy ones before him. They would not know that this particular O Neg matched a hallowed patch of blood soaked sand in a land half a world away from the forests of his home.
He prayed to the Sky Father, and to the Earth Mother and honored the Four Directions. He found reverence in all things of the Creator; the four-leggeds, the ones that crawled, and swam and flew. Fire and Stone were his brothers, and Wind was his companion when he traveled. He honored his relations before him and those yet to be. All this was neatly encapsulated into two convenient words:
Religion: other
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