Nothing of Real Importance

Dear Flippant Geckos,

Got two email rejections today. As the kids say, Woot!

Here's one of them because I don't feel like submitting it anymore.

-Matt



"The First Day" By Matt Mok


With silence. That's how it begins.

I'm thrown skyward by the blast and when I open my eyes again, I can hear nothing except the ringing in my ears. Taking in the remains of the vehicle checkpoint, disoriented, I see the aftermath of the explosion.

And then the gunfire. From flashes of fire in the night, bullets tear through our position like metal hail, kicking up the hot desert sand. Scrambling for cover behind a fallen pyramid of sandbags, I see Hernandez. He lives in a tent near mine, a wiry twig of a boy from North Carolina who likes to show off the ink on his arms. Lying in the sand, he's missing one of those arms and nearly half his face.

Another volley of automatic fire ignites my auditory senses, and I pull my head below the brim of the sandbags as bullets find their mark on the other side. I can't find my rifle, so I take Hernandez's, and start shooting wildly into the darkness at invisible assailants. A prayer escapes my lips, maybe for the last time.