['Be careful what you wish for.' Willard almost flashes a bitter smile at that. Truer words...]
All right.
[Willard isn't so sure he believes in any purpose, whoever might be calling the shots and however important they might be. Maybe they - whoever they are - do decide when to kill you off or pull you out. It isn't much of a leap to accept; what the hell else had the army been? There's always someone pulling the strings; thing is, they never know as much about what they're doing as they think.
And he sure as shit doesn't need a reminder that not everyone walks out okay or walks out at all. Five men head upriver on a boat, two head back down, and neither of them are whole anymore. All right, let's talk about walking out. Let's talk about all the goddamn good it does. Like keeping your body when you're souls been cut, if Willard can believe there was a soul in the first place. (Something doing the crying, something doing the aching, though mostly he tries to keep it cold.)
Lighting a cigarette of his own, Willard takes a drag, holding onto the silence a few moments longer. He needs time to process all of this, or maybe he just needs to get a night's sleep. Nothing makes sense. Maybe that's just something he's got to get used to.
The words are still a problem. Maybe he ought to be more open about his thoughts, give Lugo something in return for his own revelations. But how to begin? and this doesn't seem an opportune time (if indeed there is ever a suitable time). So many things that ought to be said and simultaneously ought to be kept quiet, left to wither in his silence.
For now, the matter isn't really what he wants to say; it's what must be said.] Look, buddy— John. I appreciate the head's up, and you can assure yourself I'm no stranger to commands. What I'm asking is do you want a sling. Not whether someone up there or out there is willing you to have it.
[Maybe it amounts to the same thing; Willard's not going to think that far into it. That much reflection gets to be a sinkhole, and he's close enough to losing it as-is.]
'tis fine, 'tis fine, 'tis a fine post! fie on disappearing post, though. FIE.
All right.
[Willard isn't so sure he believes in any purpose, whoever might be calling the shots and however important they might be. Maybe they - whoever they are - do decide when to kill you off or pull you out. It isn't much of a leap to accept; what the hell else had the army been? There's always someone pulling the strings; thing is, they never know as much about what they're doing as they think.
And he sure as shit doesn't need a reminder that not everyone walks out okay or walks out at all. Five men head upriver on a boat, two head back down, and neither of them are whole anymore. All right, let's talk about walking out. Let's talk about all the goddamn good it does. Like keeping your body when you're souls been cut, if Willard can believe there was a soul in the first place. (Something doing the crying, something doing the aching, though mostly he tries to keep it cold.)
Lighting a cigarette of his own, Willard takes a drag, holding onto the silence a few moments longer. He needs time to process all of this, or maybe he just needs to get a night's sleep. Nothing makes sense. Maybe that's just something he's got to get used to.
The words are still a problem. Maybe he ought to be more open about his thoughts, give Lugo something in return for his own revelations. But how to begin? and this doesn't seem an opportune time (if indeed there is ever a suitable time). So many things that ought to be said and simultaneously ought to be kept quiet, left to wither in his silence.
For now, the matter isn't really what he wants to say; it's what must be said.] Look, buddy— John. I appreciate the head's up, and you can assure yourself I'm no stranger to commands. What I'm asking is do you want a sling. Not whether someone up there or out there is willing you to have it.
[Maybe it amounts to the same thing; Willard's not going to think that far into it. That much reflection gets to be a sinkhole, and he's close enough to losing it as-is.]