Written for the bullet challenge at ds_flashfiction. Thanks to malnpudl for the beta. G.
31st March, 1958
Whitehorse General Hospital
Whitehorse, Yukon Territory
Mr. and Mrs. George Fraser
c/o General Delivery
Tuktoyuktuk, NWT
Dear Mother and Father,
I hope this letter finds you well and that you've been spared the influenza outbreak this year. I'm afraid I won't be home in time for spring break-up. Buck and I ran into a touch of trouble with a band of American poachers and I took a bullet to the leg. It broke the femur, to be precise, but I'm fine.
Nevertheless, the surgeon here won't see fit to release me until he puts me through a ridiculous battery of tests—he claims driving a dogsled is more than a man in my condition could bear, if you can credit it. Ridiculous! I'm fine, but that horse doctor is having none of it.
I daresay I'll see you with the mosquitoes.
Your son,
Robert
p.s. You may have seen in the newspaper that Buck and I received a commendation for a little matter involving the rescue of an oil company geologist and his official "guide" from Ottawa. I'd have you not be too impressed: it reeks of politics—and besides, men who walk out onto a glacier unprepared will get what they deserve—but I'm hardly fool enough to refuse their gesture.
p.p.s. I've met a girl and aim to marry her. If it takes, I'll bring her with me.
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