Juggling exercize (wrote it forgot to put it up)

            James was a simple man, he didn't need all the trappings of life to be happy.  Presently was sitting on a bridge thinking about trout. He was feeling hungry which is probably why his mind drifted to the lunch of his boyhood, a nice trout caught in the stream behind his uncles farm.

            He looked over at Walter who had just finished anchoring his ropes to the bridge, “Walt? what do you think of trying to catch some fish after were done here?” Walter shushed James with an anxious look.

            “Good heavens man you'll jolly well get us killed, what”

            James took a minute to register what Walter had said, he was enjoying the smell of fried fish wafting through his imagination. Realizing that they were behind enemy lines and that he had somewhat hollered at Walter in what was most defiantly not the native tongue  brought him back to earth with a solid thump. Rather than admit it James busied himself with digging the fuses out of his pack. His mind drifted back to the farm, the warm smell of the fields in the July heat, cicadas zuzzing lazily in the trees and the melancholic moos of the cows in the pasture. They both stopped dead.

            “shushhh”

            They held perfectly still, James with a hand in his pack and Walter crouched about to toss a rope over the side. They had both heard the brief rhythm in a lull of the night breeze. It was quickly audible over the breeze.

            “over”

            James and Walter dropped over the side of the bridge “quieter than a nun's fart”. Walter started to set the charges and James worked to advance the timers half an hour. When they could start to hear the voices they stopped and hung in silence.

            “...ich glaube sie nict! das ist nict richte. Hans hast du hast mit drei frauen Verker macht nicht, richts?...”

            “...Ja es ist richte, mit schwestern, und sie war tanzter  vor das kreig...”

            “...das machts mir krank, mit drei schwestern, und mir hat mit ohne...scheis...”

            James and Walter were hanging listening to the four soldiers on foot patrol slowly pass over the bridge exchanging occasional looks of “they'd better hurry up so we don't get caught by the sunrise” the patrol stopped in the middle of the bridge and went quiet, James felt ¾ of all the sphincters in his body contract. One of the soldiers walked to the rail. James slid back into a memory from childhood. It was a hot summer day and he and his neighbor Sissy were sneaking across Mr. Cleavers farm to get to the swimming hole. They were nipping across behind haystacks make-believing they were buccaneers escaping form a band of ruthless indians.