Lovely War

Her shriek did, I admit, wake the neighbors. She nearly collapsed for crying. She just about buckled in two. She slid down to the floor and wept.

Joy can do that. It can hurt as much as pain.

When she righted herself and pulled away, he pulled her back to him and held her close, spinning her around and around. Her toes drew circles around him in the sunlight on the water

She turned toward the sand and headed ashore.

James ran to her then and stood in her path. Before she could speak, I sent a little wave pushing her into him, and she fell into his arms. James only barely braced himself in time to keep them both from toppling over.

The feel of sea breezes and hot sand, the laughter of children and the cries of seagulls, the smell of popcorn and sizzling sausages, filled him. White-crested waves rolled endlessly in.

If he loved her, he must leave her alone.

Justice is blind,” she said, “and rules are rules. Now we pay. In onions and potatoes.”

The first casualty of war is the truth.

It is no blasphemy to blame me when a love is lost. Only to surround a heart in hatred, prejudice, greed, or pride until I can no longer find it at all.

I’m a plaything to a vindictive god.” She gazed at the ceiling. “Where have I sinned?”

WHAT IS WORSE? A lover’s heart growing cold? Or losing a love to death, having doubted them?