I scratch the stubble upon my chin and it's all I can do not tothink about the unnatural quiet of a once bustling metropolis. There isno pollution, no...technological hubbub, not a jot of smoke or a line ofjet trails upon the sky. The sun is setting on an Eden from which man hasbeen all but expelled. Dwelling upon things that cannot be changed is worse than changing thingsthat should not be dwelt. Profound no? Not even close, but its probablythe last semi-cogent metaphor this floating dirtball. I guessed that he had some military experience bythe way he carried himself. That would explain the military cut of his dirty blond hair. I sighed and left the bathroom stall. As I passed the mirror, I looked at myself. A reluctant smile peaked through my frown as I caught my first sight of the shirt he lent me. It was military green with the word ‘Army’ spelled out in big capital letters. The shirt seemed somehow fitting, a present day reminder of my small history, an army brat that would. More

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