Letter From the Eastern Front
		©2000 Joseph M Harrison
		
		
	Hullo dear,

	I think I hear them calling me, I'll have to go out again. I tire of
fighting all day. The night draws near, and we're near blind. Yes, they're
calling me love, I have to suit up, grab my load, fight my way to the truck and
go out againg. Sigh, I tire of this, and spend my spare moments dreaming of
you and the fireplace at home, I wish I could be there with you. I count the
time until I return to you, dreading each time I go out again. Its hard, but it
must be done, people are counting on us to serve, failure is not an option, so
we will keep fighting, 'till the jobs done. Then, and only then, will I return
home to you, your love and a warm place by the fire. Yup, its sucks delivering
pizza in this weather.

																
Love,
Jack