the ashtray was looking more and more like a sick hedgehog
and her yellowed fingers added one more quill to it
she sat back in her chair
work wasn't in the best of stages lately and her office looked like a junkie's trailer. You could scrape the nicotine off the walls. In fact, she would get nicotine under her nails if she just scratched her skin anywhere
But otherwise she was a beauty and that was a problem. Beautiful women have the worst luck in marriages
The husband left and the two girls went with him They were sick and tired of her habit to consume more cigarette smoke than oxygen
And drinking was also a problem though not nearly as big
The worst drinking has ever done to her was to make her lose the driving license which she never bothered to take back
The real problem was, as always, a lack of money. If the damn phone didn't ring soon she would have to kill someone for a pack of cigarettes
Assuming she could still kill someone with her body rotting from the inside. She was fine with breast cancer but now lung cancer joined too and it was by far nastier
Still that was all right It doesn't take a healthy body to pull a trigger
And speaking of triggers She opened a drawer in her desk took out the gun studied it
Not loaded
She browsed through the drawer
Only one bullet left. One single bullet. These things cost money too
Damn it
But it's like they said back in the mercenary camp The last bullet is always preserved to be used on the self
She loaded the bullet into the gun
A life lived well is one lived without regrets and without ever asking for mercy or feeling sorry for yourself
At 39 she had that. There was nothing else to be taken away from it
She put the gun to her temple
Smiled
"Except for a final smoke."
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and the few survivors who couldn’t fight were lined up along with the civilians and shot or killed in ways to entertain the soldiers And dogs were trained to tear them to shreds and the ground became black with their soaked blood and over the next few days a carpet of butterflies gathered on top of it
“It’s beautiful,” he said
She didn’t pay attention. Was too busy removing golden teeth from a severed head she held in her lap. “Dammit, whoever made these implants did too good a job. I’ve to take ‘em with gums, alright. Look, my knife keeps slipping.”
“Stab his eyes please,” he said
“What? Why?”
“Because he’s looking at us. I can’t stand it.”
“Jeez, you’re such a pussy.” She quickly stabbed the blade into the head’s eyes one after the other. “Better?”
“Whatever,” he said. “Just hurry up and pull those teeth.”
“I’m trying. If I had better tools though…”
He was silent for a long time and then he cleared his throat and said, “Hey, so… now that this shitty war is over… like, what are you gonna do with your life?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Get myself a few gold teeth as extra spoils and go back home. My mom wants me to marry this fat guy from the neighboring village. I probably will then I’ll shit him out a few kids and… well, grow old and die, I guess.”
“What? Is that it? That’s all?”
She looked at him with a grin. “Hey, don’t worry, you’re still getting some. Just wait until tonight, okay?”
“Dammit, that’s not what the heck I meant. I meant… you know, there’s gotta be more to life than just… just getting married, making kids, and dying.”
“Really? Well, what are you gonna do then?”
“I’m… gonna write. About it all. The war and… everything.”
“Write? Like, a book? A story?”
“Yeah. It’s been my dream since before the war started. Now I’ve the experience to write about.”
“Bullshit experience,” she said. “Who in the fuck d’you think will wanna read that? What’s the story gonna say? How you killed the enemy? Poisoned their wells? Raped their women and enslaved their children? Stuck twigs down the dick holes of prisoners and broke them inside for fun?”
“Hey, I never did any of that.”
“But you were there when the others did it. And did nothing to stop them. It counts as--”
“Fuck! Okay, you’re right. Writing a book about this would be a terrible idea. Thanks.”
“Shit, look, I got one. This is solid gold. Two more to go.”
He sighed. “Listen…”
“Yeah?”
“About that marriage of yours…”
“Yeah? What about it?”
“Well, let’s just say… I mean, you know…”
“Fuckin’ spit it out already!”
“Don’t marry that fat guy from the neighboring village! Fuck, I said it.”
“Oh? And marry you instead?”
“Well…”
“Y’know, the fat guy from the neighboring village is the son of a fairly rich butcher. Family business. And you… Your father’s the drunk who hung himself to avoid paying back his debts. You see the conflict here, I hope.”
“So all you care about is money?”
“Why wouldn’t I care about money? I want to live good, thank you very much. This is the real world, not some romantic story. Wake up. I gotta make the rational decision.”
“I thought we had… something.”
“Yeah, we fucked a few times cuz’ there was nothing better to do. And we’ll fuck again tonight, sure. But that don’t mean we’re lovers now. Look, you’re a nice guy. I’m sure you’ll find love back at home. You don’t need a bitch like me. I mean, if you think I’m not gonna screw other guys behind my husband’s back, you’re seriously trippin, boy. So think about it, that could’ve been you. Would you want that?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“Good. Well then, let’s get these teeth and go have some ale. It’s on me.”
She stood and with her hand soiled with blood she reached out and pinched his cheek and stretched it to force a smile on his face. “C’mon, cheer up, damn you! We still have a life ahead of us. Let’s fuckin’ live it.”
“Yeah… let’s.”
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Daydreaming as a profession 