War – a flash fiction piece.

‘But when will you be back’ she asked, clinging to the bannister.
‘I’ll be back when we win’.
He kissed her curtly on the forehead as he always had done, shifted the weight of his rucksack from one side to the other and walked out the door.
She took a moment to herself before returning to the running of the house. This involved sitting down at the still-crumbed breakfast table and dabbing a single leaf of tissue paper at the corners of her eyes whenever they threatened to ruin her make up entirely.
Years down the line she would remember this moment, it was the last time she would ever see him.

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