Darcy DeLuca

You destroyed my family, and I'm going to find you

Not like my father, who left for the mainland after the slow poisoning of his marriage
Not like my mother, who withdrew into herself and grew colder every day

No, not me.  I nursed every ounce of hatred that festered in me
I let it seep into the cracks until it drowned any chance I had of happiness, relationships, a life

But I don't care
I know you're still here 
And I'll stay on this rock until I find you

 I don't believe in an afterlife, but I can assure you of this:

If you don't burn in hell,
I'm going to make sure that you burn down here first.

Lars Thomsen

Back when I had two legs, I would have swum to the mainland just to get off this island
But my grades were terrible, my savings nonexistent
Options were limited

So I traded the ocean for the desert and my hockey stick for a rifle
While my friends were busy pledging frats and hooking up
I was living in a tent near Fallujah with six other guys and spiders as big as fucking squirrels

I grew to hate the sun and the heat and the blinding light
The way sand clung to my lips and eyelids and got stuck in my teeth

Dodging bullets
Firing bullets
Sweating bullets

I had nine days to go when the IED took out Kolchecki, Barnes, a chunk of my face, and my legs from the knees down
I was the only one that survived
If you can call it that

I spent Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year's in the Green Zone casualty unit
Then another two months in Walter Reed
Cursing myself and everyone around me as I figured out how to walk again

The plastic surgeons did what they could with my face
Which hadn't exactly been GQ material to begin with
But the scars are still there
And so are the nightmares that leave me drenched

Days are better, though
The sun is just a suggestion here
The tides run like clockwork
People leave me alone
If anything, they avoid me

I pass my long afternoons with Crane
At least I know he's not staring at my face
He mends his nets and I strum my old guitar while the wind chimes swing back and forth
And for a while, I can forget

Mark Fenner

Unknown

The dry wind came back today, a trace of smoke on its heels
I'd almost forgotten what it smelled like

I inhaled deeply and felt dormant embers catch and flare inside me
Fourteen years burning up in a matter of seconds

Back then I had thought that perhaps things were over
That things had ended badly, but ended nevertheless

Perhaps not

Tomas Silva

We all knew that the Izabel was going down
We all knew that we were going down with her

The eight of us gathered below deck
Rough men, seasoned sailors
Taking burning swigs of aguardente as we passed the bottle around
Listening to the wooden planks creak and snap as the wind screamed through the sails above

I'd always known that I'd die at sea
Better there than landlocked in a lifeless marriage
Better there than anchored to a woman
who didn't know me at all

Marcos stared at me from across the table
Set his glass down with deliberation
Pushed his chair back
Strode off wordlessly to his berth below

I rose uncertainly, torn
Even in this final hour
Even in these last few minutes
Still hesitating

And then my heart rose up into my mouth
Buoyed from where I had buried it many dark fathoms below
Hidden for so many years
Pickled in saltwater

I turned from the table, ignoring the stares of the other men
I made my way through the darkness and the muffled crashing of waves from above
He was there in the flickering candlelight
Waiting for me with a sad smile on his bearded face