The woman stands in the doorway, looking through mist toward the lake and tall firs on the opposite shore. Behind her, a man wheels himself to the fireplace, takes an iron poker and strikes at the fire, as if beating back war rising from the flames. Curses and rage have followed them even to the end of this road, far from Walter Reed's numbing group sessions. The man grunts, continues to pound. The dog cowers in the kitchen. Outside, the light is jaundiced. A loon calls from somewhere across the water, inviting her to swim.
Audio reading by Victor D. Sandiego