So here's a little excerpt in honor of the 12th letter of the alphabet....
I wanted to kiss him the moment I laid eyes on him, but of course that was the one thing I most definitely could not do.
The young girl with the AK-47 held him steady in her sights. I watched him kneel and carefully lay his weapon down, the ease of his movements stealing my breath.
His face was hidden behind a pair of tinted sunglasses, his body encased in Army green and tan fatigues, but I could see his strong chin and tanned skin. What moved me, what made me want to take him, was the courage he showed when he surrendered his assault rifle.
He knelt opposite the girl, unmoving. In this place of swirling dust and daily eruptions of gunfire and explosions, this soldier's stillness was captivating - the sound of shouting retreated, fell away. Automobiles and trucks on the nearby supply road quieted. The very air seemed to halt, the dust falling to the ground like litter.
The American soldier said something. I was too far away to hear the words, but their tone, even at a distance, was calm, soothing. The girl rocked on her feet, but kept the muzzle of her gun leveled at his chest. Tears ran down her dirty cheeks, mixing with rivulets of sweat dripping from her dark hair, giving her face a Madonna-like sheen.
I moved closer, crouching behind the cars parked along the street. There were no passengers, no drivers and no pedestrians on this lonely street just outside of Kandahar. The residents had either fled or were hiding behind closed curtains.
The girl had every intention of killing. I could see it in her eyes. They weren't the eyes of a young girl, but the eyes of a soldier who had seen too much death.
Have a great night!