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The soldiers look yellow their rifles change into crutches other rifles become candles then they vanish: there are no rifles nor soldiers any more. The dead march on silently they turn over trucks, tanks they stomp onto the bayonets and trumpets Attack ha ha ha A woman screams: son and falls onto the feet of a dead man the quarry worker yells: join them; a mason screams: murderers; a longshoreman raises his arm and his gigantic and strong fist hangs over the high-rises: help join them murderers my son, my son! Then the wind perked up again. The crowd stirs and starts walking a forest of raised fists a loud buzz peace peace
A shameful thought passed through Liam’s mind before Nora answered. Her voice was bleak. ‘Yes, he’s fine. As far as I know. Letters don’t come all that regularly.’ Another pause. Another tear. Nora looked from the fire to her hands. They trembled in her lap. She placed the half–eaten scone on the plate, and dried her cheeks with a hankie from the pocket of her dress. ‘He’s in the Mediterranean somewhere.’ ‘Then why …?’ Liam did not finish the question. He stared at Nora’s lowered head, at the curve of her neck, at the heavy droop of her doleful shoulders. Her shoulders were shaking. She was quietly crying. ‘Nora, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?’ She buried her face in her hands and wept openly. ‘I can’t marry Joe,’ she explained through her anguished sobbing. Then she brought herself under control and wiped her eyes again. ‘What’s all this about?’ Liam asked in a consoling voice. ‘Why can’t you marry Joe? Has he …?’ ‘No, Liam. It’s me,’ Nora said. ‘I’m carrying your child.’ Liam felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach and pound away there, thud, thud, thud. ‘Oh my God.’ He took a deep breath. His emotions were in turmoil. Excitement, elation, then apprehension, foreboding, and finally concern for Nora, for how she would handle the public shame, the contumely of congregations that would doubtless cost her the teaching job at the school. He would lose her; the school and the pupils would lose her. Gradually his innards returned to normal. His heart still pounded, thud, thud, thud, but in his chest where it belonged, like a fist beating against his ribs from the inside, a prisoner clamouring for release. When he was in control of himself again he asked, ‘Nora, are you sure?’ ‘Yes.’ Her head still bowed, her eyes still fixed on her hands in her lap, she did not look at Liam. ‘I’m a month overdue already. It must be.’ Liam’s turbulent emotions gave way to a new sensation, a hope that maybe …. Not knowing what to say, he stood up from his chair, walked to the kitchen and poured the boiling water into the teapot. He brought the teapot back and placed it in the hearth near the fire. Little puffs of steam spurted from the spout. Nora had not moved. But when Liam sat down again she turned to him and said, ‘Will you marry me, Liam? Now. Right away.’ ‘Yes, Nora. I’ll marry you.’
Punishment And time came for my punishment when He, the forever diaphanous unfolded the scroll to read the exigent and after He called my name and my kin’s without paying attention to the black patch on my left eyebrow, it was a dark night, what could I see? I felt as if the same exigent suckled nourishment from breasts unseen from virginal and hardened nipples inviting like a groovy song heard in the background when His voice, quite unapologetically, called my innocent girth standing before the enemy’s rifles which during that day of justification defined my purpose conclusively
Mayanaam
vequinox
Manolis 