This War of Mine: Strength in Numbers

Us

Cupid awoke a couple hours before dawn, and 30 minutes before Mark.

Splashing some water on his face he could almost imagine that this was just another day, but then he reminded himself that it wasn't. In his old life he could never had been able to afford an extravagant place like this, or even the gorgeous room that he now called his own.

Applying his eyeliner, mascara, and eyeshadow he misses the days when his routine would end with him looking as fabulous as he felt, but this would have to do. The lip stick slid onto his lips from the tube.

It was time to feed the troops.

He was going to make porridge for breakfast today for himself and Mark. Stacey and Roman would be eating the stew he had made last night, because for them it would be their dinner before they shuffled off to bed.

—————

Mark awoke to the sky turning light blue.

Wandering down the stairs Mark walks into the kitchen.

"Ah hell no," Cupid says.

His hands find Marks shoulders and steer him back towards the stairs.

"Coffee," Mark says, glaring over his shoulder at Cupid.

"No way, wash up, put on clothing that has been washed in the last couple of days, and then sit down at the table," Cupid says, pushing Mark towards the stairs.

"Coffee," Mark says, slowly walking towards the stairs.

"How did your Momma ever leave you on your own?" Cupid says, shaking his head. "I swear if you were left on your own you'd live on a diet of coffee and potato chips..."

What ever Cupid was going to say next is lost as Mark heads up the stairs and to his room.

Splashing some water on his face, Mark looks up and into the mirror, he realizes that the person looking back at him as had some very long nights. He grabs some new clothes that had been washed recently, and once again attempted to find some coffee.

But as soon as he tries to wander into the kitchen Cupid stops him and steers him into the dining room, gently pushing him towards the large table.

"Sit there and eat everything I put in your bowl," Cupid says pointing to a spot made up for him at the table.

As Mark sits he sees a bowl of porridge with small pieces of canned peach cut into it. Picking up the spoon, he digs in with a satisfying sigh. The combining flavours tasting heavenly in his mouth.

—————————

Roman meets Stacey as she waits at the back door.

"Seen any looters today?" She ask him not moving from where she is half leaned on the house.

"It was quiet," He says with a grimace.

"Between the army and the rebels the only people left are either smart, silent, cunning or a combination of the three." Stacey says.

"Life is not going to get any easier," Roman says.

She nods, and a look of weariness passes over her face.

"Rough night?" Roman asks.

"I don't really want to talk about it," Stacey says looking out into the backyard.

"Thought as a psychologist you would be all up for talking about your feelings," Roman says with a smile.

"I don't know how anyone, who has seen war, who is willing to talk about it," Stacey rubs her face with one of her dirty hands smearing a black streak across her face.