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Date Posted: Sunday, February 13, 09:02:28pm
Author: Sylvia
Subject: The LFN 100 - Week Forty-One --Six drabbles for the price of one!
In reply to: EllenM 's message, "THE LFN 100 – Week Forty-One" on Wednesday, February 09, 12:12:17am

I thought it would be fun to do a drabble for every major character this week. I didn't include any names, but I think they'll be fairly easy to figure out. Each is exactly 100 words.
********************************************

The fallen leaves crackle under his feet as he makes his way dejectedly to the pond at the back of their property. Today is his tenth birthday and he was expecting a new rod and reel, but the old man had had other ideas. After a brief lecture on safety, he was given a .22 single shot rifle, a box of cartridges, and a chore-free afternoon to wander wherever he liked. He figures he'll try it out, use a few shells, and then catch some fish for dinner. By dinnertime, he has a sore shoulder and a new, life-long love.
********************
The guys said that it couldn't be done, but, as usual, they were full of crap. Sure, it had taken him a couple of days longer than he thought it would, but he knew he'd find the back door eventually. What should he do now, though? Increase his aunt's monthly benefit? Surely the change would be noticed sooner or later and they'd just deduct whatever they overpaid. He quickly realized that the Social Security Administration's computer files were totally useless. It was time to leave the baby stuff behind. There was only one thing left to decide: NSA or CIA?
********************
Not surprisingly, her subject was uncooperative. She took the failure in stride and simply devoted herself to evaluating his psychological profile, combing through his personal history, and studying him through the closed-circuit cameras. With a renewed sense of purpose, she tried again. In less than six hours, she had the information that she needed and a warm body with a psyche so thoroughly shattered that death could only be a mercy. Adrian had tried to warn her, had told her that conducting interrogations would be difficult and demanding and would eventually harden her beyond all recognition. Adrian had been right.
********************
He knew that he was an exceptional soldier. He was born and bred to it, and he couldn't remember ever wanting to be anything else. So why was he standing just a few yards from his CO's bedroll with a grenade in his hand? Maybe it was because he finally understood just how dangerous arrogant, inept leadership could be. The Vietcong had killed three of his men today, and he refused to allow more needless deaths. The government called it treason; the troops called it fragging. Call it whatever you wanted, but sometimes the ends really did justify the means.
********************
She'd never had a place to call her own before, and, now that she did, she couldn't decide what to do first. There was furniture to be bought, curtains to be hung, walls to be decorated, a refrigerator and cupboards to be filled with food. There was even an entire wardrobe that needed to be bought to fill her empty closet. A tiny part of her insisted that a gilded cage was still a cage, but she quashed the thought ruthlessly. A caged bird could be pretty damn happy when the alternative was a shoebox buried in someone's back yard.
********************
The day dawned cold and sullen, matching his mood. He found her in the kitchen, and she offered him a wan smile and a cup of coffee. Maybe things would be easier if he knew what to expect, but he'd never even been to a funeral before, much less had to plan one. He wondered at the tiny ripples distorting the surface of his cup and didn't realize that he was crying until he felt his sister's arms around him, dimly heard her voice telling him that it was okay, everything would be okay, because they still had each other.

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