What Will Happen?

What do you think will happen? she asks.

He stands behind her staring at the headlines on the computer screen.

I don't know, he mumbles.

It really doesn't matter, does it? That they caught this man, this Kurd-gassing, swamp-draining butcher from Tikrit? Maybe his capture will lead to others. Perhaps it will not. Maybe the violence will subside. Maybe it will not. But even if it does, what difference will it really make? The world is a different place. Unchecked hatred is ascendant.

It is a blustery night. The wind is gusting outside the window. The fallen Ash leaves that were golden on the lawn just days ago are now dry and brown. The air is cold.

We cannot go back.

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