Once more comes a time for Friday Fictioneers, 100 words more or less, be brave and jump in.
copyright - DLovering
“July 2nd, 1971.
Ernest, my dear selfish bastard,
I sit here, in the sticky summer afternoon, at the same place we shared our stories, laughs and lives so many years ago, trying to remember how different life was back then. Was it because we were young and naive, with not enough war pictures of torn limbs and wasted youth…I don’t know….It’s been 10 years from your self-imposed exit and I am sipping your favorite drink (they still know how to make it), remembering your words: “Are you a war correspondent or wife in my bed?” Guess we know the answer.
(Inspired by Martha Gellhorn and Ernest Hemingway.)