Brian Warf

Memories of the Future

The little golden locket was in the shape of a heart they said. It contained a tiny photo of his daughter, but they told me not to open it if I found it. I wondered how I would know it was the locket he’d lost unless I opened it to see the little girl’s photo, a real paper one like in the days when people had them around the time I was born. How many lockets could there be in that particular area in one precise spot containing a photo of a little girl? Many or none at all? The real trick would be to find the damn thing amid all the likely rubble. Before I left, they told me again not to open it because there was something else inside the locket, something very important that could be crucial to our very survival and they didn’t want me losing it. I’m only a ‘Grunt’ after all. If this writing is found after I’m gone, I wouldn’t mind so much then about my true identity being known. I have to think that if I were to lose it and it ended up in the wrong hands while I still breathe, then I choose to remain anonymous. Think of me as a John. John Smith I guess. I was in the regular Army before all of this shit started.