![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) richardlovett |
[28 Jan 2020|12:43am] |
 All morning in the strawberry field. They talked about the Russians. Squatted down between the rows, we listened. We heard the head woman say, 'Bomb them off the map.' Horseflies buzzed, paused and stung. And the taste of strawberries - Turned thick and sour. Mary said slowly, 'I've got a fella, old enough to go. If anything should happen...' The sky was high and blue. Two children laughed at tag in the tall grass, leaping awkward and long-legged. Across the rutted road. The fields were full of bronzed young men; hoeing lettuce, weeding celery. 'The draft is passed,' the woman said. 'We ought to have bombed them long ago.' - Don't,' pleaded the little girl with blond braids.
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