by Angel Doucett
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
Not For Sale
Author requests article critique
The fight had been brutal, at least to her. She picked up the piece of paper she had been writing on, balled it up, and threw it across the room with such force it actually made a whizzing noise.
How could things have gone so badly so quickly? How? She flopped down on the sofa, and buried her head in her arms for a minute, then got up grabbed the paper and pen to start over.
Dear Marine: She wrote, Then paused. That was her pet name for him, but right now did she want to use it? Didn’t she just want him to know how bitter and angry she was?
She chewed on the pencil thinking, then continued the letter.
I am so angry with you! How could you leave me here? I am all alone in a strange city and you are far away with your buddies. I hate this town, I hate having you so far, It’s not fair! Who is going to help me when the kids are ill? How will I find my way around? How could you leave me again?
I can’t stand you being over there. You have to come home.
She choked on her tears, you left me. She whispered. Everyday I read about men and women getting killed or hurt over there. She stopped, then whispered you are there.
The tears flowed, she thought of all the things they had done. Of their last night, of his promise to take care of himself.
“You promised.” She said then all of the energy went out of her. “You promised“, she repeated sagging on the sofa. But will you be able to?
She dissolved then into bitter and angry tears, her body shaking with each passing sob.
He stood looking off to the side of the carrier. One of the men walked past tapping him on the shoulder. He didn’t respond for he was looking miles away. The Ocean and the noise of the ship didn’t register,
All he saw was her. All he felt was anguish. This was his third tour of duty, he had promised her he wouldn’t go back but when the call came, he felt he had to. He had joined the marines because he had felt honor and defending his country was the most important thing, it was his call.
Some were called to preach. He was called to protect their right to do so.
He knew she understood, in her heart she did. He knew she loved him, even though her look of abandonment was heartbreaking.
He continued to look past the ship, the sea, and into her heart. Willing her to understand from hundreds of miles away.
She was spent, the tears were gone. She couldn’t cry anymore if she tried. She got up and got a cup of coffee. The sun splashed across the kitchen table and washed over her like God putting His arms around her. She walked to her desk, picked up her devotional, and Bible and read for a while, then spent time in prayer. Finally, she picked up her pen and her nice stationary, the scented one, he at least deserved that.
She started her letter again.
He was sitting at his desk in his stateroom when the letter came. A squadron was about to take off for practice maneuvers, and he had to do a fuel count. He had several, two from his mom. one from his daughter and one that smelled as sweet as the morning dew. He looked at it and the firm handwriting.
He offered up a prayer, before opening the letter hoping their minds and hearts were still in sync.
The letter smelled so sweet, for a minute, he just held it and time was still.
Finally he opened and started to read, a smile spread across his face as he read:
Of course I love you and understand. You should have seen the fight I had with myself! God and I had a talk about you as I prayed for you to be safe. I have cried every tear I have and now, I just want you to keep your promise, come home to me safely.
The children are fine…
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You captured their struggle so well...you are a very good story teller. It wasn't stilted a bit. The only change I would make is to work on the punctuation. Other that that it's great!
Very heartfelt and touching. I'm so glad God brought her around.