Breathe

The Discovering: Part 1

OSMOND,

LOGAN A.

836-72-9418

O NEG

CHRISTIAN

Logan looked at his tags and thought about the meanings behind his name: 'Descendent of the warrior' with Irish origins, the Greek god of light, and 'divine protector' in Old English. Could he really have done anything else other than go into the army? But, he was tired, so very tired. Not just physically, although walking through the desert with an army pack on isn't exactly relaxing, but mentally. He loved being in the army, but he needed a break. He was tired of travelling all over for work. Tired of the same thing day in and day out. Tired of being alone.

Logan joined the army after finishing year 13, just after he turned 18. He completed his 4 months of basic training before starting off in infantry, completing 2 years before moving on to becoming a gunner. He had completed 2 years in that department before being shipped off overseas for an operation. Logan tucked his tags under his shirt, looked out at the expanse of the a distant desert, sighed, hiked his pack higher up on his back, and kept walking. Out of the 20 individuals there, he was the most experienced, which, of course, didn't mean he actually knew what he was doing. It just meant that he had been in the army the longest.

Logan was tall at 6'4", with brown hair so dark it was almost black. His green eyes were bought out by his uniform. The silver chain attached to his dog tags glinted as the sun caught it on the back of his neck. Due to his training, he has a muscular build and is very active. His body is scattered with scars, big and small, intermingled with his tattoos; a tribal design on his back, creeping around to peek over his neck and around his ribs. His left sleeve was made up of symbols, pictures, and snippets from his favourite movies, books, and TV shows, and he had some dates in Roman Numerals on his right collarbone.

Logan had been on base for 10 months before being sent off for some more training. He thought about the last two nights before he shipped off.

He went on Tinder, trying to find a good yarn or a good lay one last time. He lay on his bed on base and tried to find someone in his vicinity.

Left.

Left.

Left.

Right.

Left.

His finger hovered over her first picture. She was cute. He swiped through, reading all those little titbits on her profile. He chuckled to himself at her Madagascar reference. Definitely a right.

He didn't end up getting in one last root. He tried to put it out of his mind. That was 2 months ago. Not like he could check Tinder now. He only had two more days till he was back on base anyway.

Safiya A. Ashia

19026390

She lived in an army city, why was it so hard to find a nice army guy? There was an army base 6km away from where she lived. She had a couple of flings with army boys, but she wanted more. She wanted to be swept off her feet when her man came home from overseas. Wanted one of those soldier reunions like on YouTube. Wanted a strong man who could take care of her. She was a feminist, but that didn't mean she couldn't have somebody who could protect her. Her name meant 'pure' in Arabic, the Greek goddess of moonlight, and 'life and hope' in Arabic. She was studying psychology at Massey University in Manawatū, in her third year, and was enjoying it immensely. Her end goal was to do paediatrics clinical psychology, but she needed a break. She was tired of the city. Tired of the same thing day in and day out. Tired of being alone.