With the sudden alteration with what men had to become in wartime no one considered what women thought or how they would adjust to the change.
For dinner Gerry killed a squash chicken and pink rooster with the aplomb of men who kill often, who have experience and have reconciled the matter with their maker.
He is a prototype, incomplete yet integrated to his surroundings. He doesn’t hesitate. He feels no sin.
A convalescence of vagrant men conflicted and confused about their place in the new world meet women here who must break this veneer like men, to connect.
In these alcoves of alders spuming with discomfort and resentment Gerry and his men huddle around the dancing dice – unable to accept the dice is neutral and indifferent.
It cannot repair their status nor carry or build a new place for them in a reordered world.
Dice dance to their own tune.
The men do not see life is theirs again to mould on their own.
They are subservient to a higher fate.
They are too scared to be alone.
Nes’vi-o’sous adj [nés’vi-ō’sₔs]
1. One who adroitly states the obvious.
2. Fatigue or displacement belonging to an interbellum.