Foot patrols through Baghdad were slow. Nothing but time to think about sniper sightlines and IEDs hidden in the trash. We gridded the streets in our AO and sidestepped sewage-puddling ditches. Three months in, one block became our favorite. There were fewer adobe-like farmhouses, and beyond them lay the rural red-sanded expanse of the desert. The stagnant heat reminded me of running the firebreak roads at Camp Mackall during SFAS Team Week. I had twelve months to go, a full year to imagine a violent death on a repeating loop. I wanted to make it to my twenty-first birthday so I could walk into a liquor store back home in Fort Worth and buy my old man a nice bottle of Scotch, thank him for loving me, for sending me letters every week.
Cover Page Footnote
"Steve Harvey & Carlos II" was originally published at Booth.
"Steve Harvey & Carlos II,"
Booth: Vol. 8
, Article 2.
Available at: https://digitalcommons.butler.edu/booth/vol8/iss1/2