So I was looking for pictures for ideas for some pictures I have to draw for Malcolm (the neat janitor guy at work).

So I was looking at some photos from World War 1.

Baaaaad mistake.

I mean, good in way that it just reinforces my fierce objection to war, and makes me clutch mentally on to Mike to keep him from rejoining (though he still assures me, over and over, he won't go back).

It was sick.

I made the mistake of sifting through pictures of children at war, and through some 'forbidden pictures', which were mostly of vast trenches filled with pieces of people and live soldiers alike.

It was positively horrifying.

I read a few of the 'We regret to inform you' letters.

If I got one of those...if Mike rejoined, and I heard that heavy knock at the door...

Oh, god. I can't, I won't think about it.

It makes a thick lump rise in my throat, and my chest clench up with panic and fear and lonliness and makes me want to cry and cry and cry.

When I get like this I always want to fall restlessly asleep on Mike's chest, one arm around his waist, head on his shoulder.

I'd be melancholy, and he wouldn't know why, but how can I tell him such a silly fear?

I don't want to think about it.

.

Rosie.

Before&After