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A Long Walk Off a Short Pier
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Story Notes:

Written in 2010.
It was pure, stupid impulse.

One minute he was there, half-asleep, the next he was sailing off the end of the pier like a drunken trapeze artist. Dick Winters’ mouth dropped open in surprise as Lewis Nixon did a Flying W right into the drink. Boots, jacket, the whole kit and caboodle. He disappeared under the water with a mighty splash.

The major stood knee-deep in the shallows, towel wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl, staring.

Nixon surfaced with a shriek and a sputter. “J-JESUS CHRIST IT’S FREEZING!”

Winters’ laughter echoed across the lake with his best friend’s screams.

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