Selling arms to the enemy isn’t strictly legal but war covers over a multitude of sins. The company I was working for was selling to both sides of the market and making a killing.
My wife and I were not given to excess but we lived well in war time, better than most anyway. My extra income meant we had more time together; often we would walk along the beach as the sun went down.
“The clouds are red ribbons.” She was particularly pensive that evening.
“You love ribbons,” I replied, glad she had finally spoken.
There was silence for awhile and then she said suddenly, “Do you ever think of the dead?”
“To be honest I try not too. This is war; people die.”
She was quiet as we made our way back to the car.
I knew what she was thinking and frankly I couldn’t bear the idea that she thought ill of me. We had enough money to make it through the war and so I decided to retire.
The next day I told my boss I was leaving the business. He responded by threatening me, saying that if I ever exposed the racket he would destroy me.
“I just want to retire in peace,” I replied calmly.
I raced home, eager to tell my wife the news.
The front door was open and I heard a burst of gun fire – you can tell a lot about a weapon from its sound.
And she was dead, of course she was dead.
Selling arms to the enemy isn’t strictly legal but war covers over a multitude of sins.
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