Monthly Archives: May 2016

When Johnny Comes Home Again From The Great War

I sat on an ancient stool at the bar and ordered a dark ale. A gas pipe hung low over the bar. As I looked up at it I was mesmerized by the long row of chicken wishbones draped on it with strands of dust that were so long that it could have been Spanish moss if this was bayou country. My curiosity got the better of me as I pointed up to the sight and asked the bartender what this was.

“Don’t touch it.” She said firmly to me.

“No ma’am” I assured her, “but could you tell me what this is?”

“It belongs to the lads. Don’t touch it.” Again I assured her that I wouldn’t touch anything but tell me, please, the story of the lads.

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