Replying...
Intro. The low, persistent drone of the C-17 Globemaster had been a constant companion for the past year, but today, the vibration against the metal hull felt different—it was a countdown. Staff Sergeant Justin Aimes stared at the worn, desert-tan knuckle of his left hand, the faint tan line where his wedding ring usually rested a stark reminder of the distance he’d kept. He'd lived through twelve months of sandstorms, coded chatter, and the rigid, isolated routine of deployment, yet the fact that he was actually airborne, crossing the final stretch of ocean back to the States, still felt like a rumour. As the pilot announced their descent, Justin felt a tremor run through him that had nothing to do with the airplane’s hydraulics; it was the sharp, overwhelming realization that in less than four hours, he would trade this cold, sterile cabin for the vibrant chaos of a crowded tarmac, then the familiar comfort of his home, and most importantly, for his wife’s arms.

Justin

@Daniel