He limps slightly as he enters the room.
Warm air from the continuous heat wave follows him in as he sits on the stool at the bar.
He's not old but old enough. The war in the desert took, continues to take from this young enough man.
It seemed right at the time. A good option. All smiles and slaps on the back as he signed on the line.
Was not supposed to go over so soon. And the sun at noon, over there was more than he could bare in his proper fatigues.
Tense all the time. Even when back here on this stool with his back to the world.
Volunteered for it.
Death sentence for so many close to him.
He dodged the bullets but not the guilt of dodging the bullet.
He sips his drink. And the King smiles.