War and Men

“Today was the day I finally opened the letter I had written to myself ten years ago.” the paper was turning to a rubbish piece of yellow fabric yearning it’s age and maturity although it was a sunny day where the wind blow slow and the timid waves clash with the cliff and bounce an echo where the crystal cluttering of the sea could be heard from a mile, for a moment i grasped the white sand and meshed it through my hands as if i had made it after all this years.

Dear Eugène, if you get this letter it means that you have turned old and rusty don’t forget to bring that gentle smile of yours. I guess you have already visited Venice or seen the shores of Normandy. Who knows? Or marry the girl you fall in love with, life might have a different plan for you so don’t twist it and bring a leash to unfold your story cause it will lead you to different paths that you’ve never seen before. It is always the little things in life that bring joy, don't forget that.

I slowly folded the paper and threw it in the sea but the wave bounced it back and returned it from the shore each time as I saw it unfold and pushed it beneath the gaps of my little feet I felt terrible. “such a trifle thing” I said to myself while remembering the years that have passed by. It was the year 1875, five years after the brutal franco-prussian war that has devastated most of the french cities.I was standing on the shores of nantes gasping my newborn freedom after the war, it felt as if we were burned alive. How come god has given me this last chance?

It was merciless and somehow a sadistic experience for a first timer when you join the army, mostly the battlefield was ravaged in tears, blood, anger and constant fear of death but hunger would be your last resort to seek that dance against death. The loud roars of the canons still pound in my ears. The long noses of the chasspot guns point endlessly with the quick waves of the galloping Cuirassiers swinging their malevolent swords but the screams were made out of hell it still screams in my ear drums.

War and men made most of history that the world has seen today and women are the remedy to the soul and when I was injured with bruise wounds on my left ankle an angel with white gloves with short neck and green eyes who had a smooth face came straight looking and grasped and saw my wounds.

“Do you have pain or inflammation” she questioned me 

“What pain my lady”

“Your wounds sir?”

The vivid dreams tormented my soul even after the war. Thanks to Joséphine Marie, a woman whom I'd never thought would find in this chaos she gave me a sense of order and relief as a safe haven.

The cool breeze of nantes still flows through out the open patio of the house it was white and glowing with the moon crescent 

“It’s late come to bed” said joséphine 

“But i don't want to cause i have started to see my end days”

“Stop this nonsense will you Eugène”

She started to grasp the tips of her fingers on my hair flawlessly. She whispered the antidote of her soft tone and said

“Unto death thee lord is where we find fortitude

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.”

Those were the last words I heard as I passed to the next realm. 

The morning sun reflected the first rays of the day. I could still feel her presence throughout the room as she walked and her shadow followed and then the silhouettes.

 “ joséphine are you there?”

But the blood cloaked dress was hanging with the words 

             “ your Josephine, Your remedy ”