Under the Weight of Your Wings

"Bars of pale winter sunlight poured through the small, thick, plastic windows as the airliner banked over the bay. The bars of sunlight, like spotlights over London during the days of The Blitz shifted and traversed the passenger compartment, highlighting faces and shoulders of passengers, creeping smoothly along the inside of the curved fuselage.

Since boarding the plane back in Atlanta I had kept my eye on an Middle Eastern looking, military aged ,male passenger sitting to my left front across the isle from me. Actually I was watching everyone but mostly him. He had noticed me at boarding time and gave me a weak smile. I looked at him coldly, assessing him as a threat. The man had sat down and attempted to ignore me as I told myself to calm down and relax. I was back in The World now. Still he attracted my attention, just short glances every now and again, and I attracted his attention. Of course sitting on a US passenger flight in my sun and sweat faded DCUs I was difficult not to notice.
Eighteen days ago I was on patrol in Baghdad."
This is Your War II