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07 December 2005

many's the lad fought on that day well the claymore could wield

the doctor and the nurse had developed a silent language. there was no use for words when everything could be communicated through glances. and in a combat zone, too often the words were better left unspoken. this doesn't look good. no. not good at all.

he had been in a few weeks ago, this one. it was just a flesh wound. a glancing shot. lucky. a few stitches. good as new. oops.

it was worse than that and no one had known. no. he had known. but he had soldiered on, as soldiers do. it's nothing i can't beat. i've seen worse. i'll be fine. i need nothing.

and now, left neglected and untreated, it might be too late. and only now does he understand the gravity of his situation. because doctors and nurses are not the only ones whose eyes can speak and read this language that has no sounds.

1 comment:

  1. :( I don't know what to say to that, but it makes me sad. Sometimes that language is palpable in a hospital, and it sucks. and sometimes friends speak that language amongst themselves, and you know things are being said, but damned if you know what they are.