Lovely War

People who talk of falling in love after just one meeting have their heads full of pillow down.

When I pass by, Love is in the air.

Kisses by the billions happen every day, even in a lonely world like ours.

And when Hephaestus heard the grievous tale, he went his way to his smithy, pondering evil in the deep of his heart, and set on the anvil block the great anvil and forged bonds which might not be broken or loosed, that the lovers might bide fast where they were.

But when a furniture rearrangement took place, on a whim, leaving Hazel’s right side on display, James decided he liked that view even better. She was his, from every angle. The scars were a reminder that she came back.

“As Ares says, they die, you know.”

The god of fires nods. “They do. But the lucky ones live first.”

“Grief is not a contest,” she said. “What happened was horrible. No one should face it. Especially not from their own countrymen. It’s a crime against humanity. Against decency and reason.”

Everything had changed. He had no desire to go back to war and die for Bobby. He wanted to live for Bobby, and for Maggie, and especially for Hazel.

Let it be me, he told the sky. I’m damaged, but he’s free. Make me better, and send me back, so I can die instead of Bobby. He has a future. Send me back where I belong.

“My Frank was a fine one for writing letters.”

“Because he missed you,” Hazel said, “and he loved you.”