...And Sleep Will Come Too Late

“Orders?”1

“Check.”2

“Approbation to deny them completely?”3

“Pending.”4

A decadent grin. A mouth lacking teeth. The thunder clapped between his hands as he rose to address the masses, “Than what are we waiting for, you batch ‘o ladies?! Let’s get this show on the road!!!” The cheer went up; the planning was over. Now was the time for action; was it wrong? Illicit, at the very least. No one cared. The new coalition of these two military forces was unstoppable. There would be no prelude, no innuendos here – pure fore would surely win out overall. There would be no one to intercede with their intentions, no one to expostulate the perversion that was so perfect, so meritorious to these death-hungry soldiers. There was a war to be won. 5

Two sat near the back, their weary arms had grown sore of clapping long ago. Jaded eyes roamed the crowd with a hopeless sort of knowledge; none here would see as they saw. They saw young boys restless from the quiet, begging for some form of senseless noise. Feet stomped for change in their march around the grave, did they ever realize what they were doing to themselves? Those very same feet would soon bring others to dance with them in the hackneyed belief that, yes, killing was good for the soul. It was sweet and right, for they would be clapped on the back and handed pleasures of the world. 6

It was a sight that plagued their dreams.7

Two sat near the back, their backs had grown heavy of pleasure and praise. One pulled from his pocket a photograph, hacked and torn by time’s cruel maw. Jaded eyes would often travel here for assuage from the lurid memories of battles past. The knowledge those memories would once again appear in his future was too much for his tired mind; it pushed a tear from his eye to ease the pain and pressure. 8

It didn’t help. It never did. 9

Two sat near the back, their hands tied with the very skills they had so longed to achieve only a year before. The higher-ups would notice if they deserted now, and though the thought was tempting, they would never try to leave. The sick knowledge they had gathered in those self-bound hands must be shared, must be passed out to those silly boys. They probably would not care. They didn’t, they couldn’t understand hiatus between fighting and war. 10

He glanced at his companion; not many did anymore. He supposed that’s just the way things went when your face matched your soul – who would want to look at someone like that? His companion gazed back. His eyes flicked to the photograph, then back to his companion. 11

His companion began to cry. 12