Short story that I wrote for class…

Desert Heat
The heat was alive that day. It breathed into us and flecked our skin with sweat; always present, always twisting around us. Sergeant Brady examined a map while Private Gerald drove the humvee slowly up the hill. There was a tip about a buried weapons stash here, turned out to be true. Our job was to lay down some explosives to destroy it, and then be on our way.
Onward to the stash we drove, wishing the A/C could drive away the heat that ate at our skin. My good buddy Private Bates asked if Gerald could go any slower, and he responded with a quip about Bates’ momma.
Then we heard a sound like two frying pans banging together. Gerald swore, and we groaned. Something must’ve broken, so Bates opened his door to have a look. He stepped out and the world ripped in two. I was blinded by an ugly red light; the heat seared the skin off my face; I felt like I was airborne then I was being crushed. I heard and saw nothing. If I was up, down, on my back, I had no idea. I was lost in my own body. If time passed I have no recollection of it. I remember thinking about my dad buying me ice cream in the summer.
A sharp tug at my shoulders brought the world back with a crash. The humvee was burning in the distance, shimmering in the heat. Brady and Gerald were next to me, helping me take off my gear. We were burnt and bloodied, and now at the mercy of the heat. Bates! Where was Bates? He was right there, I saw him, where did he go?
I wrote this journal entry that day: Desert heat. Delayed fuse. Friend vanished.

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