The lovely and talented Elene Sallinger has a weekly writing prompt that I thought I would try.
Sitting cross-legged, the boots start digging into his legs. The hot sand underneath is almost burning him and the sun shining in his face is in fact burning him. However, there is things to be done, he holds his rifle and it is time to disassemble and clean it.
The bolt fell apart easily in his hands; this had been done hundreds of times before. The simple cylindrical shape with its edged grooves, he rolls it in his hands. Who would think that something so simple could be part of something that could kill someone?
When he was done, it was glistening from the lube just applied. Nothing like a freshly oiled weapon, he thought as he slid the bolt back into the receiver with a click. The sand will work its way into the rifle soon enough, unfortunately.
Picking up a clip, he muses about the odd banana shape it has; how the hard plastic would be able to hold the rounds he was about to load into it, one at a time pressing the new shiny brass into the opening, sliding slightly to the left before each one locked into place. After the first few, the force of the spring pressing back against the brass rounds made it difficult to load.
Getting to his feet he dusts off his Kevlar, the sun has already faded it and the straps look as if they will break with the slightest amount of force but he still puts it onto his head and buttons the chinstrap. He takes off his boots then shakes them out; it is a futile gesture since the sand will be back in them before he has a chance to lace them back up. Nevertheless, it’s time to go back to work, someone has to do it.