Meat Loaf: Hang Cool Teddy Bear

Machines whirred and beeped

Machines whirred and beeped, syncopated in a rhythm as they kept Patrick alive. Groggy, he wondered how long he had been asleep. It didn’t take him long to get his bearings: a hospital room somewhere overseas.
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Patrick found himself in the woods

Patrick found himself in the woods, gingerly scaling a slippery rock which was really more of a large boulder. Jenny was ahead of him. She spread her arms and she leapt off, giving a wail of exuberance just before hitting the water with a splash.
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She was beautiful.

She was beautiful. Her hair swept down across her forehead in an auburn wave just above her dark, alluring eyes. Her face was sculpted. Her shirt was a petite cotton number with a collar and it fit her like a glove. Patrick couldn’t name its color but he thought it was a pastel, one of those boutique varieties with a name like “lilac.”
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Shrapnel hurt

Shrapnel hurt. But not the way Patrick imagined. Not a sharp pain, like when he sliced his pinky to the bone chopping tomatoes at his old pizza parlor job. Or that time when he was exploring old man Feeney’s construction site and a two-penny nail punctured his Converse. No, this was more of a burn, as if someone was pressing the business end of a branding iron into his ribs. It hurt like a mother. But Patrick was still better off than his pal, Tennessee Tommy.
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A new rock adventure begins