He knew immediately he was dead. No soldier worth his salt ignored the possibility of instant death in a war zone. He'd seen death happen seven times in the weeks before it bit him. Seven men from his platoon. Each went home, not to joyous families, but laid out in a six-foot dead box. He would be number eight. He hovered over that blown apart, used-to-be body. strewn in pieces amidst the thigh-high wavering grass, sinking into muddy water, and knew he would never breathe another breath of life; never hold Leanne and Gabe again.
A bright light appeared in the east. It exerted a powerful pull, a promise of peace.
Then something whispered in his mind about unfinished business.
To All a Good Night is T. M. Simmons' annual Christmas story for her readers and family. She wishes everyone love, family, friends, and happy endings for Christmas.