A War Story
Peter Schultz
“So, dear,
how was your day at work today,” his wife asked.
“It was
fine,” he said. “I was busy.”
“Did you
score a lot of hits?” she asked.
“Yes, I
did. Quite a few. We were dialed in on several high value targets in Afghanistan,”
he replied. “Although some of them involved children. You know how they use
children to try to deter our attacks.”
“Oh, indeed
I do,” she replied. “How many were you forced to kill today?”
“Only 2, I
think,” he said as sipped his beer, while flipping through the channels on the
tv.
“Well,
that’s better than last week, when you think you killed 4 children in one day.
Isn’t that right? It was 4 last week, wasn’t it?”
“Yes, that’s
right. Glad you remembered that. I was feeling a little down about killing
those children. But two isn’t so bad, is it?” he said, sipping more of his beer
as he watched ESPN.
“Oh, no it
isn’t. And don’t feel badly, dear,” she said encouragingly. “You have to do it.
And after all, they would probably just grow up to be terrorists in the future
any way.”
He was
silent as he glanced at the tv, drank his beer, and tried to focus on ESPN.
After all, the pennant races were tightening up.
“Are you
ready for dinner, dear?” she asked.
“Oh yes,
any time now,” he said. And soon they were eating and talking about the
upcoming weekend when they would be off for the beach. It would be fun.
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