Author's Note: Sorry for the massive delays! I'm still here, haven't fallen off the face of the earth yet. I've had material for ages, but school started up again and this year is a doozy! This is the first week for ages that I haven't had a project! But I digress.
Corporal Maxwell Klinger
It's the middle of the night and I'm pacing up and down an Army camp in Korea in a dress with a rifle over my shoulder.
If that sounds funny, then how about this last detail: I'm a man. A man in the Army trying desperately to get out. That explains the dress. That's going to be my ticket home: a Section 8, a psycho discharge. I figure that if wearing women's clothes got my uncle out of WWII, it will get me out of Korea. And boy would that be great. Back to Toledo, home sweet home. I can almost taste the sausage that you can only get there. And back to Lorraine. She's my gal back home, the best you'll ever see.
If only this Section 8 would work.
And quickly.
Because sometimes, in quiet nights like these when I'm alone with my thoughts… I wonder if I'm still only pretending.