The Revisionist (Word Vibes II)

The pilots threaded their way through the bursts of flak with an adroitness born of desperation. I was in the first seat by the clamshell doors.

The jump light shone amber above my head, casting a pale yellow glow on our nervous faces. I was trying desperately to hold on as the seat buckled beneath me, and then the light turned green and I stumbled to the open door.

The plane exploded.

A wash of broiling heat slammed against me and picked me up and hurled me straight out into the open air. I was lucky, my parachute was still intact.

I hung under a canopy of silk watching as the broken pieces of the transport plane spiralled towards the ground, spewing bodies. There was nothing I could do. I landed in a clearing, hid my parachute like I'd been taught and headed to our rendezvous. Five of the forty men in my platoon made it out alive. The 31st platoon was no more.

My submission for Word Vibes II. The keyword for this story is 'convoluted'.