This one's a bit longer, but I really like it.
I’d been with the troops for months now. My hands were worn down by loading guns, crawling across thorn bushes, and gripping my thin, ragged blanket at night. They ached so badly I had to wear special gloves to protect them now, keeping my aching palms constantly cool with a coolant system that resided around my wrist.
I sat, looking at my hands with a heavy sigh. I wasn’t allowed to do much physical work since my hands were out of commission. The rest of my squadron was helping to re-enforce the village. I, on the other hand, was in charge of watching children.
They didn’t do much, just sort of sat there and played with their toys, giggling and laughing, completely unaware of the war going on outside their door.
A young girl walked slowly up to me.
“…excuse me, sir…” I looked up.
“What do you want, kid?” I snapped, glaring up at a little girl in a white dress.
“…I picked this for you.” She handed me a small yellow flower in her delicate hands.
“….it might heal your hands.” She looked at the ground.
That was a few days ago. Now, as I rub the salve I created on my healing hands, I remember the girl again. I never knew her name, I never saw her again, and I don’t even know if I said thank you, but she gave me my hands back.