(Sleeping) “More Bullets, More Bullets..” (Wakes up) sigh. That factory is taking its toll on me too. Always bullets. All the time. Non Stop. (tries getting back to sleep) Ohhh whats the point. (Lights Candle, Starts to walk down stairs) {muttering to self}What’s the use in sleeping? (Walks into living room) (looking at wedding photo and closing eyes, pressing it close) Every time I close my eyes I see him. See is face. See is suff’rin’. I hear is cries at night, their cries. Gets me wonderin, ya know, how e actually died. Bullets? Shell fire? Gas? And who killed him. A german? Or a stray bullet from our side? What does it matter. He’s still gone. A german didn’t kill him. The war did. The war killed him. The war killed him. I shouldn’t have let him go.! What were you thinking, Harry? When you were dying, dying. Was it me you saw? Was I the image that flashed in your mind, not strong enough to keep you alive? (gather self todgether, calm down) The kids miss him. I can tell. They’re great with George!.. But, well, you know, they just, don’t understand do they? It’s time to move on. I have to move on.
