Ilari reaches for his glass. How hard writing one mail can be? He has tried to write his feelings, promises of change and his hopes for an hour now, but it's damn difficult. Then his phone rings and his little brother takes Ilari's thoughts elsewhere.
- Yeah?
- What's up? Iiro says.
- Same shit as usual, Ilari replies in common Finnish way. - You?
- I have a weekend leave, his brother starts. - Can I come to your place? Ilari smiles. If he misses someone from his family, it's Iiro. He's probably closest of his kin.
- You are always wellcome, but...
- But what?
- This flat is really spartan now and I do live with army's daily rhythm.
- Yeah yeah. I don't mind.
- Want me to pick you up? Ilari sips from his drink.
- Yes sir! Iiro laughs. - I just want to get out of here as soon as possible! I thought you'd never ask.
- What. You don't like being in army? Ilari teases him. - Okay. I'll be there. See you on friday!
- I don't know how you do it, Iiro says and leans back to the treetrunk. He wanted to change the army's uniform into his own clothes as soon as possible.
- Do what?
- The army. I hate it. I really do. He snorts. - More than half of the guys are like kids. It's like being in kindergarten with weapons.
- Hey, I'm a trainer and you a trainee, Ilari points out. - Seriously, I like how my life is in order. It keeps everything clear.
- Really? Is it? Iiro looks closely his older brother. He senses there's something wrong. Well, more than usual. Ilari is silent for long time.
- No. It's not. And then there's silence again. Iiro sighs and waits. He needs time and it takes patience to get his brother to talk.
(In Finland there's mandatory army training for all men starting from age 18 and it takes at least 6 months to 11months. Women can volunteer if they want to.)
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