*

softly treading the narrow
pathway, a pitcher-full of ice
drawn from the hotel's ice machine

in hand.

about to pull an all-nighter
with a bottle of grey goose vodka

for company.

alone inside a four-sided wall, all i could hear was the quiet hum of the monitors sending their messages into the gloom.

downrange. and in country.

a flight of drones. a flash of doom.
one less tango inside the room.

a sardonic smile. a vengeful toast.
a silent triumph. a night of quiet celebration
at home.