There is a war going on, but I'm not fighting in it. It doesn't matter much to me either way, I have no qualms about killing soldiers or being killed by soldiers, but I am glad I don't have to go through the hassles of training, dressing up in fatigues, and being sent far away.
Instead, I am having a picnic with women. It's disappointing that we go to the park instead of the beach. We are eating cold chicken. I hate chicken, but I am very, very hungry.
The war is spilling over into our country. From our picnic, I watch with the women as the hills begin exploding and catching fire. It is just a matter of time before it reaches us.
The women are not women anymore. They have turned into animals. I don't know what kind of animals they are, exactly, because all of their bodies are different. Some have four legs, some have arms, some don't have any real shape at all. But they have the faces of children and criminals and they are all screaming.
Now I am scared. Now I wish that I went to the war when I had a chance.