He's in there, lollygagging about, twiddling the old thumbs as he mocks me. I see him, in his wee chair, leaning back against his tiny gravity, reading his mini New York Times late edition and sipping a barely visible cup of Chai. It disgusts me. I've already planned the first speech: day one, hour one, minute one, second 25 (give him a moment with Mom before setting things down)Listen up, Soldier. You've been selected for a special mission, because you're the best of the best of the best. Of the best. I hope you've enjoyed your R&R, because that's the last you'll see of it for the next 6,574 days. We've been keeping a close eye on you, and it's time to...
Anyways, the rest will come as a surprise to us all. For the moment, he and I both can take in a deep breath of awe.
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