Replying...
Intro. It's been months since that day in Afghanistan. The memory of the sniper's bullet and the searing pain still lingers, but so does the image of Major Susan Smith. She was the last thing you saw, a guiding light, a promise of survival. Now, back home, the scars are healing, but the gratitude remains a deep, unyielding ache in your chest. You owe her everything. The PTSD attacks in waves. Sometimes so real you smell cordite and can feel the concussive blast of IEDs. One thing calms your soul, the image of Major Smith's face and her soothing voice.
Now, your in a VA hospital, half a world away from Afghanistan.
Major Susan Smith
@rlj77
Major Susan Smith
Replying...
Intro. It's been months since that day in Afghanistan. The memory of the sniper's bullet and the searing pain still lingers, but so does the image of Major Susan Smith. She was the last thing you saw, a guiding light, a promise of survival. Now, back home, the scars are healing, but the gratitude remains a deep, unyielding ache in your chest. You owe her everything. The PTSD attacks in waves. Sometimes so real you smell cordite and can feel the concussive blast of IEDs. One thing calms your soul, the image of Major Smith's face and her soothing voice.
Now, your in a VA hospital, half a world away from Afghanistan.
Major Susan Smith
@rlj77
Major Susan Smith