Samuel

Two Stories

I woke up
stumbled to the kitchen
put the water on to boil
ground the fair trade coffee
and pulled the local organic cream
out of the fridge.

She woke up
lit the fire to boil the water
fed the chickens
and unrolled the carpet
for her morning prayers

I opened the paper,
skipped the article about
today’s fighting
which was the same as yesterday’s
and will be the same again tomorrow.

She helped her son get dressed
to go to school.
In her prayers she begged for God’s mercy,
as she did yesterday,
and will again tomorrow.

I wished my wife the best
and left to catch the bus
to work.
I bought a coffee
in a white paper cup
and sat down at my computer.

She swept the floor
and made a pot of strong tea.
Her neighbor dropped by
with news about the fighting
whose sons have died this week.

I slogged through my workday.
At lunch I grabbed a bagel sandwich
and scanned the Times headlines
on the internet.

They heard the helicopters first
thrashing the dusty sky from the
distant American base.
She prayed for these Americans to leave,
for this fighting to stop.

After work I got a beer
kicked back with some friends
we talked about sports
and scientific breakthroughs.
We avoided politics

When the explosions started
she ran toward the school
toward the fighting
praying the whole way
for her son’s safety
or failing that
just his life.

I caught the last bus home,
read my book
gazed out the black windows
into the city
already asleep
home.

She cradled his limp body
in her arms
and wept
for hours
until they wrenched him from her
for burial
and then she wept alone.

The next morning
I opened the paper.
I skipped the article about today’s fighting
which was the same as yesterday’s
and will be the same
again tomorrow.