Memory Box
My commanding officer met me outside in the sandy space between the sleeping quarters and the offices. Her voice was uncharacteristically restrained and her body language subdued, as if she was tenuously containing something that was difficult to say and wasn’t quite prepared to say it. As we walked the short distance to her office I endured her small talk about life in the desert and answered with little mmhmms and yeses. In between, I was swallowing hard and fast, trying to choke off the anxiety that was currently trying to choke me.