Peace – At What Price?

flash-fiction

I joined the line, candle in hand. Not exatly sure why I was here. It sounded like a good idea – a community ceremony for peace. Heaven knows there have been enough problems – problems that were under the surface until now. Well, now the wound has opened, and it is much deeper than anyone realized.

This is the quietist line I have ever been in. We look at each other, smile reassuringly, then look away again. Our hearts are torn open, and we are living in fear.

I step forward, and light my candle. A sense of peace comes over me.

(c) November 2016 Bonnie Cehovet

Reproduction prohibited without written permission of the author.

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