The Lies of War

“Can I be indiscreet? " she asked.
“What are you suggesting Jocelyn?”
“How do you earn your money?”
“I sell weapons.”
“I just knew it was something like that…”
“Yeah it pays well ’n I get to screw chicks like you, but sometimes it gets to me.”
“How? You’re rich man, you’ve got everything at your fingertips.It’s cool.”
“Babe, it ’s not so simple. You got any brothers?”
“Yes. I’ve got one brother, but he’s autistic, nobody can really understand him. He’s sweet ‘n really nice but all he ever wants to talk about are Nissan cars, like he knows all the specifications and details of every model ever made.It’s kinda amazin’ but not much use. He lives in a Home.”
“I just wondered.”
“How come?”
“It’s ok, maybe he’s better off jus knowin’ about the Nissans.”
“What’s the matter hon? You want me to do something?”
“No, just shut the fuck up.”
… She nestled closer to him and kept her peace. She knew that guys wanted to talk sometimes, especially in the middle of the night, so she waited for it to come…
There was a bit of a breeze keeping things awake, it was very pleasant, the guy’s breathing became more regular and relaxed and then he started…
“Somebody said we’re all brothers. Maybe that’s true – even genetically, like the limited amount of fresh water that keeps getting recycled, maybe we’re all blood relatives.”
She held him closer to show that she was listening.
“This shit I buy and sell, when you see and hear politicians claiming to be seeking peace, it’s all crap. The biggest producers of weapons are the fuckin civilised G8 nations, they’re the ones with their fingers on the triggers.
“Who’s the G8?” she murmured.
“You know, all the fuck pigs in the news all the time, the States, Germany, France, UK… The richest fuckin 8 countries in the world. Well these guys produce most of the weapons in the world too.”
“Mmmm…”
" All these fuckin wars you hear about, say, Afghanistan, well the boys on one side are gettin shot at by the boys on the other and the one side’s makin all the goods, get it?"
She looked up at him and nodded, he was such a good payer…
" I’ve just sold a consignment to the fuckin Taliban, made, polished and checked for accuracy in the good ol’ US of A. Maybe some Nato soldier boy gonna be shot by a bullet that his fuckin mother or brother, who works in the arms factory back in Cincinatti has personally stamped with their approval…
Then, when the kid comes back all shot up with half his fuckin body missin and a pretty red ribbon, they all gonna rally round and say what a hero he is…But it was his own real life family and his fuckin government who shot him up!"
She understood of course, her body was her main asset, she looked at the miracle that was her arm and imagined all the countless blood vessals , bones and other living tissues that made it up. Even a little blemish was to be avoided, but what if a bullet had smashed it’s way through her elbow for example, it could never be repaired or restored to it’s present perfection and beauty, she’d be finished at this game.
“So why do they do it?”
“What?”
“Go to war and make arms to sell to their enemies.”
“It’s late babe, suck my dick so I can get to sleep.”

The Lies of War

Christopher  Raggatt

Ho Chi Minh City, Viet Nam

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  • Christopher  Raggatt
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  • Christopher  Raggatt
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