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Description
Her small, angelic hands were soft against his rough palm, his hands marked with cuts and scars while hers barely showed a trace of disruption of the skin. Her smile was wide and she flashed her teeth at him, and her blonde hair fell in light curls at her shoulders. Her headband was tilted slightly, and her tie-dyed shirt was one sized to big; she was barefoot and wearing old Capri’s that looked like they had not been washed in decades. Despite her appearance, his heart felt a unfamiliar twinge and he no longer felt the need to follow his sergeants orders.
"Who are you, another self-righteous Hippy?" his voice interrupted the silent moment, the deepness it was unknown to the quiet.
She smirked a half grin and replied in a sing-song, light-hearted voice. "Who are you but yet another death loving soldier?" she tapped his nose with her index finger and laughed. "Trying to destroy life and cause war, and worse you follow somebody else’s orders instead of your own."
He blinked at her playful way, ignoring how strangely his heart reacted to her gesture.
"I am only saying dear soldier," she continued, batting her eyes and moving her fingers up his right palm. "that maybe there is more to life than what you see. Maybe peace is far better then war, and love is far better then death."
He stared at her. "What is your name?"
"What is yours?"
"Percival," he said in his deep rumble, not taking his eyes away from hers.
She grinned. "Percival the War Soldier! Dear old Percy of Vietnam!"
"Enough." He spat, growing annoyed of her taunts. "What is your name, girl?"
She stopped and smiled at him, "Call me Heather, dear soldier. We'll meet again, alright?"
She pecked him on the cheek, sending his heart a-blaze with feeling; she spun on her heel and trotted off. All intent on destroying this women, this creature of God, this daughter of Earth, vanished from his soul. He watched as she pranced away, her beads dangling and making noise against her bangles, and her hair flowing in ruffles. His captains orders meant nothing to him, how could he remove such a beautiful person from existence?
Placing his rifle back against his side, he turned around and began to walk back to his base, to report that the Hippies were no longer in this area. Far back in his mind, he hoped he and Heather would meet again.

The line is drawn, the curse it is cast. The slow one now, will later be fast as the present now will later be past. The order is rapidly fading, and the first one now will later be last. For the times they are a-changing.

Description
Her small, angelic hands were soft against his rough palm, his hands marked with cuts and scars while hers barely showed a trace of disruption of the skin. Her smile was wide and she flashed her teeth at him, and her blonde hair fell in light curls at her shoulders. Her headband was tilted slightly, and her tie-dyed shirt was one sized to big; she was barefoot and wearing old Capri’s that looked like they had not been washed in decades. Despite her appearance, his heart felt a unfamiliar twinge and he no longer felt the need to follow his sergeants orders.
"Who are you, another self-righteous Hippy?" his voice interrupted the silent moment, the deepness it was unknown to the quiet.
She smirked a half grin and replied in a sing-song, light-hearted voice. "Who are you but yet another death loving soldier?" she tapped his nose with her index finger and laughed. "Trying to destroy life and cause war, and worse you follow somebody else’s orders instead of your own."
He blinked at her playful way, ignoring how strangely his heart reacted to her gesture.
"I am only saying dear soldier," she continued, batting her eyes and moving her fingers up his right palm. "that maybe there is more to life than what you see. Maybe peace is far better then war, and love is far better then death."
He stared at her. "What is your name?"
"What is yours?"
"Percival," he said in his deep rumble, not taking his eyes away from hers.
She grinned. "Percival the War Soldier! Dear old Percy of Vietnam!"
"Enough." He spat, growing annoyed of her taunts. "What is your name, girl?"
She stopped and smiled at him, "Call me Heather, dear soldier. We'll meet again, alright?"
She pecked him on the cheek, sending his heart a-blaze with feeling; she spun on her heel and trotted off. All intent on destroying this women, this creature of God, this daughter of Earth, vanished from his soul. He watched as she pranced away, her beads dangling and making noise against her bangles, and her hair flowing in ruffles. His captains orders meant nothing to him, how could he remove such a beautiful person from existence?
Placing his rifle back against his side, he turned around and began to walk back to his base, to report that the Hippies were no longer in this area. Far back in his mind, he hoped he and Heather would meet again.

The line is drawn, the curse it is cast. The slow one now, will later be fast as the present now will later be past. The order is rapidly fading, and the first one now will later be last. For the times they are a-changing.