Letter to Doris

Another tear falls upon the white paper directly in line with Blair’s next word. His writing has stopped, waiting for the paper to dry. It will be lights out shortly so Blair is forced to continue through the dampness. The ink bleeds but the text is still somewhat legible.

"I know’d you ain’t said you’d be my girl, but I feel like you’re the only one I could ever really talk to.
It’s so lonely here and everyone treats me poorly. I seem to be the unluckiest soldier in the whole outfit. Just yesterday I got clubbed in the face during rifle drill. Sergeant Clay said it was an accident… darn near broke my nose off, and today Sergeant Synder put me back on kitchen duty, said my footlocker wasn’t lined up just so… I can’t remember the last time I had more than an hour of a sleep in one gulp… I do wish you’d write me a letter. It would sure go a long way toward lifting my tattered spirits…"

"Doris, you’ve got another letter from that Louden boy."

"Oh!, just put it in the wicker basket, I’ll read it later. I’ve got to get ready and I’m already running late…"

"I suppose you’re going to spend more time with that fly boy from over by the airdrome?"

"Fly boy has a name you know, you’ve been introduced! And yes, Lt. Hansome, said he’d pick me up at 7:00 sharp."

"You best be careful little lady. I’ll wager he’s got more on his mind than the wild blue yonder! I just knew when they built that damn Army air base there was gonna be trouble!"

"Stop your worrying, I’m a big girl… and he always treats me like a perfect gentleman."