One Thing: A Dream

I dreamed a strange one in those half-awake hours in the light of early morning. I was a soldier coming and going from a war. We were a small unit, me, a boy and another girl. I loved the boy. We'd spend a few days away, then home again, real home, not the barracks. I was carrying less and less personal belongings to war. I did not need them. In this dream we were never under attack. We just went on patrol. The area we patrolled was like Paddy's field, a place I played in as a child. The difference was there was a sheer face of earth, maybe 20 foot, to scale before we could the field and at the top end of the field there was another long drop to the road.