Rating: PG13Length: One hundred words.

She dreams of flying between sharp stars and a garden of fire; some of the stars are ghosts whispering secret knowledge. An abstract spring spurs the garden, the growth of fiery flowers commanded by her desire.

In her dreams she has scores of bodies and eyes — she's no bird but the flock's soul. When she wakes she wishes she hadn't.

When other veterans invite her to peace rallies she declines, polite but hard. She has lost most of her bodies, and maybe her heart.

Perhaps if the war worsens they'll let her have them back.

.finis.