Early Morning Drinking

She strolled over from behind the kitchen counter, across the open dining area and into the small living room. He was there watching an old black and white war movie. She sat on the couch across from his chair, staring at him sideways.

Bombs whizzed and bullets flew on screen. Men dived into foxholes for cover while others groped at their bloody chests and crumpled to the ground.

A commercial came up and he turned to her.

“I’m going to have a beer, you want anything?” he said.

Her eyes darted across the room to the wall clock, proving that it was only twenty after nine.

“You haven’t even had breakfast yet,” she said.

He shrugged and sauntered to the fridge, pulled a can out from the back someplace, grabbed a paper-wrapped package of sliced ham and walked back to his chair just in time for the movie to start again.

A general paced back and forth in front of a large map. He barked orders, pointing at ridges and rivers, grew furious at their ineptitude and sent his men away. Once they were gone he sat at his desk, and threw his head into his arms and wept.

Outside, the world darkened until the sky and trees and the movie all wore the same dreary shade of grey.

“More rain,” she said.

“It’s been raining all week, might as well get used to it.” he said, pulling himself up from his chair. “You sure you don’t want a beer?”


5 thoughts on “Early Morning Drinking

  1. A grey story.
    I’m wondering what sort of condition the couch is in. Seeing as it’s a major player.
    And why did he stand at the end?
    A well crafted bit of flash.

  2. I liked this a lot. The juxtaposition of the physical war played out on television against the spiritual/ existential war going in the character’s lives. A loud, grapic war versus a subdued, quiet one. But both wars nonetheless. Makes for a great contrast.

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