Too many teachers want to know how my break has been on the surface but wouldn't even listen if I felt any impulse to respond. I know my boundaries; another foolishly commented on their less-than-excellent break and Mrs. Teacher promptly exclaimed, "You didn't have a good break? What's wrong with you!" I could no longer contain myself and heard myself shouting (thankfully covered by the din of after-lunch gossip), "Nothing! Nothing's wrong with me! What's wrong with you?"
Have I been sad for too long? Scared? I've been sad for too long. Despite the heaps of homework I face, this is my missed break before the next wave of tears. I'll bid farewell to Tammy - the fourth of four in so short a time. Who's next? And will it ever end? Doubtful. Like Janet, who always sorrowed at the memory of four generations of friends, gone and long buried, I will continue to observe the falling soldiers until no other targets remain, and all the bullets fly my way.
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