She'd have been one of those women who added her husband's name to the extensive list of unidentified bodies and waited as long as she was told to, until her turn came to identify him, along with people who specialized in measuring bones and comparing them to photographs, medical records, and their relatives' descriptions. She'd have answered every question asked of her and, had she been told to, would even have helped dig up the earth...
...her husband, who had insisted she shouldn't fight for what was rightfully hers, started seeing other women, women who hadn't even fought with them, or on any other fronts. Women with pretty hands and pampered feet. They said they supported the cause, but all they did was carry papers from a regional office to one in the capital. Which didn't strike her as particularly helpful.
...though the neighborhood they live in is supposedly safe and the world is no longer what it was. The war is over. Her daughters tell her there's nothing to fear, but she's not so sure. Despite all the documents and the years that have passed, she thinks that sooner or later something will happen. And you have to be ready, to face it or to flee.
Her neighbors-ex-combatants, like her-think so too.
1. Is my nick name since high school. Only my good friends use it.
2. Whenever I have good light and a book.
3. Hard to say not that much reading this month. But so far the tagged book is good
4. I live alone. No pets but tons of plants
#wondrouswednesday
Slash and Burn | 
