The theater was paved with American bodies that nestled like spoons. Most of the Americans were in stupors or asleep. Their guts fluttering, dry.
"Close the fucking door," somebody said to Billy. "Were you born in a barn?"
The English prisoners of war don't have a high opinion of the Americans. Of course, the Americans haven't given the Englishmen to regard them with anything but disdain. They've been rude, sick, and violent. Billy lost his mind in the middle of a theatrical performance, and the rest of the Americans spent the night shitting their guts out in the prison latrine, swearing and groaning. Like I said, the Americans don't come off very well.
Of course, that sets me up for an entire post about the reputation of the United Sates in the global community since Donald Trump took over in the Oval Office. (For those of you who haven't been keeping up with current events: America has gone from world leader to world laughingstock. You know it's bad when Canada is offering asylum to citizens of the United States.)
However, I'm not going to go down that path. Too easy. Instead, I'm going to write about something that makes me proud--my wife. Today, she went to a doctor's appointment, and she has lost another six pounds. That means she is closing in on 60 pounds of weight loss since her surgery in June. Amazing.
She's had struggles over the last couple months. Vomiting and such. As Vonnegut writes, her guts have been fluttering, dry at times. But she's feeling much better, and she's excited about the fact that she weighs less than 300 pounds now. All of her hard work is paying off, and I love her for her courage and strength.
Yes, I am bragging about my wife, but she deserves a little bragging. She's one of the bravest people I know.
Saint Marty is thankful tonight for his beautiful wife.