Let slip the time

Vital. Life after life. Negating death. A water fills my lungs, surrounded by steel walls, a trap, a prison, a deadly cannister of man’s doing, exploding in mid-sentence. Weep I the tears mixing with the gushing salt water, every helpless gulp, the strangest taste. My chest swells, a coolness spreads through my torso, like being wrapped in arctic emotions, banishing the struggle for breath. The briefest shrieks frightening, but in an instant, gone, bodies float before me with terrified expressions, lost in them, the families left on the surface. I bear them. I count them as mine. Guilt swells just the same. No heroes medals. What proud insignia would have me? What colors sewn into my uniform would cause this? This vessel cracked in half, in pieces, the suppressed sounds, once the senses we counted upon to counteract such a scene. Counter-measures. Now we descend into cavernous past, like a hazy watery dream. Pictures of the father land, the streets, houses and the smiling mugs of wives and children, bound in secret pockets, there at the bottom of the sea floor, where we let slip the time. When we wake, it will be the breath of another. Perhaps in Russia. Perhaps on Mars. That’s when I’ll see you again, and yet again. Signed the sub commander who made the wrong call. A most deadly call.

Published by: frankmarquezwritings

I'm a writer, and have been for most of my adult life. Without making this sound like a resume, I wrote creatively in college, dabbling in poetry, short stories and play writing. Later, I became a journalist, public affairs specialist, copy editor and eventually a guy who ran his own newspaper. Now, I'm back to letting my imagination run wild in some new creations including a science-fiction novel. Somehow, I also managed to teach English to high school kids, and roam the battlefields of Afghanistan as a field historian. Field historian may be a misnomer considering all I did was write abstracts summarizing military unit profiles and missions that included hundreds of interviews of troops and contractors in combat. I grew up in a small town called Gering, Nebraska, before escaping to Pomona, California, where I spent my last two years of high school, graduating from Ganesha High School in 1983. I have a Bachelors in English from the University of La Verne (1987), and a Masters in Education from UNLV (2007). In between, I worked for government - the Army and TSA. I served tours in Panama, D.C., and Tokyo, all thanks to a teacher who encouraged me to see the world before I settled down. As hobbies, I run, hike and bicycle long distances. I have also been known to surf and ski. I now live in my hometown after moving back in June 2015. I get to see family on a regular basis, breath fresh air, and not have to ride the D.C. metro or get stuck in traffic. In fact, I ride my bicycle whenever I can. I'm happily married to my wife Lisa, and we watch over a pack of fur babies, our dog Charley, and three cats Spike, Bootsy, and Franky (his shelter name). If you should ever visit me in west Nebraska, be prepared to feast your eyes on paradise.

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