Snap out of it! The middle of this battle is no time to reflect on that sweet homecoming and the slow, passionate lovemaking…perhaps a child this time; she hopes.

I’m hit. Feel the blood sticky and warm. Bad, bad place to be hit. The men are falling all around me. No matter. I’ll be going home soon. Just not to my darlin’ love. Lord Jesus, please forgive me. I’m in pain and just want this finished.

Let it be stated: Johnny Reb was shot and died at the hand of the Giant from New York State.

So noted and documented.


The child should not be conceived but passion runs hot and sanity runs away. Infidelity is a part of wartime. Live for today. Tomorrow may never come for me, for you, for us.

Why did I marry him? He just wanted someone to write home to; and what did I want? To leave home.

Now my home is with you and the baby. The war is drawing to a close. The newspapers say it. If this is so, what will happen to us ?

Will you go South again? Will you tell her? Will you come back to me? Yes?

No!


“Your real dad was married; went back to his wife. He doesn’t want contact; would upset his family. Why are you taking this so calmly?”

“Had you not, would I be here? How you did concerns you and him, not me; I am only the product.”


It is time. Must find my dad. Why am I riddled with sickness? Is it my genes?


Let it be noted: Johnny Reb had a son and his son - your father. No sickness to be found, only a family to reconcile.

Your husband’s great-grandfather was the Giant from New York.

Blood feud over.

Impressum

Texte: Paula Louise Shene
Bildmaterialien: Paula Louise Shene
Tag der Veröffentlichung: 07.08.2010

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