Spam nr. 3
Feb. 6th, 2011 06:06 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
leviathans-moon.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
120_minutenTitel:Do what your father says
Genre: Original
Challenge: Erbe/ Die Sünden der Väter
Wörter: 504
Warnung: Gewalt!
Kommentar: Englisch. ich glaub, ich habe noch keine einzige kriegsbezogene Geschichte auf Deutsch geschrieben.
„Why are you in the army?“
Every time he hears that question he wants to punch it away, preferably out of the face of the guy who asked it. He would never hurt a woman, so he can’t punch them, but he still despises them for asking that question.
But instead, he laughs and says: “If I’d gotten a penny for every time I get asked that question…”
He wouldn’t be rich; he would just have a hell of a lot of pennies.
By the time he’s done with explaining he usually wants to kill his conversation partner. Not properly kill, obviously. There seems to be an unspoken law about making jokes about killing someone when your job actually involves killing someone. Sometimes you’re not even allowed to kill the time.
“Don’t use that expression, would you?” a few of his ex-girlfriends had said to him. They were those girls who thought it would sound grand if you were dating a soldier. They soon discovered what it really meant to date a soldier. Most of them bailed after two bad nights, verifying the stereotype that soldiers aren’t supposed to be weak.
“I mean, okay, they probably pay well, but why would you want to kill people for your country? For this country? Honestly?” He thinks that 70 years ago that guy would have been stoned for uttering that treason, but then again 70 years ago he wouldn’t have had reasons to talk about his home country that way.
“You know, there was this one guy, basically a kid, he was 15 at the time. He had 11 siblings and there just wasn’t enough space anymore in their little house in the Scottish Highlands, so his father gave him a sack with food, an old sword that couldn’t even cut the bread anymore and told him to go and get himself a life. In the Scottish Highlands you learned how to take care of your sheep and cows and how to catch fish faster than your father. He had neither sheep nor cow nor fishing rod. There wasn’t much left for him to do and he looked very handsome in red, once he got a fitting uniform off of one of the dead ones.” Cue disgusted face, cue trying hard not to look pleased with himself.
“One of his sons died in America, two fought against the Irish, three of my ancestors fought against Napoleon, one was part of the six hundred, four fell in France, another two 34 years later, same country, my grandfather was evacuated from Dunkirk and returned a year later to get his leg blown off in Bastogne. My father fought in the Falkland wars and in the First Gulf War. When I was a kid, he always told me that this is not an ordinary job and that I should do something proper. ‘Don’t become soldiers, boys,’ he always said to us.” He got up, grabbed his jacket, pulled it on, before draining his pint.
“Well, you know how children never listen to what their fathers say.”
Genre: Original
Challenge: Erbe/ Die Sünden der Väter
Wörter: 504
Warnung: Gewalt!
Kommentar: Englisch. ich glaub, ich habe noch keine einzige kriegsbezogene Geschichte auf Deutsch geschrieben.
„Why are you in the army?“
Every time he hears that question he wants to punch it away, preferably out of the face of the guy who asked it. He would never hurt a woman, so he can’t punch them, but he still despises them for asking that question.
But instead, he laughs and says: “If I’d gotten a penny for every time I get asked that question…”
He wouldn’t be rich; he would just have a hell of a lot of pennies.
By the time he’s done with explaining he usually wants to kill his conversation partner. Not properly kill, obviously. There seems to be an unspoken law about making jokes about killing someone when your job actually involves killing someone. Sometimes you’re not even allowed to kill the time.
“Don’t use that expression, would you?” a few of his ex-girlfriends had said to him. They were those girls who thought it would sound grand if you were dating a soldier. They soon discovered what it really meant to date a soldier. Most of them bailed after two bad nights, verifying the stereotype that soldiers aren’t supposed to be weak.
“I mean, okay, they probably pay well, but why would you want to kill people for your country? For this country? Honestly?” He thinks that 70 years ago that guy would have been stoned for uttering that treason, but then again 70 years ago he wouldn’t have had reasons to talk about his home country that way.
“You know, there was this one guy, basically a kid, he was 15 at the time. He had 11 siblings and there just wasn’t enough space anymore in their little house in the Scottish Highlands, so his father gave him a sack with food, an old sword that couldn’t even cut the bread anymore and told him to go and get himself a life. In the Scottish Highlands you learned how to take care of your sheep and cows and how to catch fish faster than your father. He had neither sheep nor cow nor fishing rod. There wasn’t much left for him to do and he looked very handsome in red, once he got a fitting uniform off of one of the dead ones.” Cue disgusted face, cue trying hard not to look pleased with himself.
“One of his sons died in America, two fought against the Irish, three of my ancestors fought against Napoleon, one was part of the six hundred, four fell in France, another two 34 years later, same country, my grandfather was evacuated from Dunkirk and returned a year later to get his leg blown off in Bastogne. My father fought in the Falkland wars and in the First Gulf War. When I was a kid, he always told me that this is not an ordinary job and that I should do something proper. ‘Don’t become soldiers, boys,’ he always said to us.” He got up, grabbed his jacket, pulled it on, before draining his pint.
“Well, you know how children never listen to what their fathers say.”
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no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 09:39 pm (UTC)Ich habe mich spontan in dieses Zeile verliebt:
He wouldn’t be rich; he would just have a hell of a lot of pennies.
Aber auch das nur nebenbei und nur um davon abzulenken, dass ich wirklich nicht mehr als "einfach toll" zu sagen habe.
Und der letzte Satz... einfach wow. Ich liebe gute letzte Sätze und der hier ist perfekt. - Einfach toll trifft's doch ganz gut.
no subject
Date: 2011-02-06 09:45 pm (UTC)