Excerpt
“Great. Come over to the next room here and I’ll try out a new tune on you.”

She followed him through a doorway strung with beads. “What’s the title?”

“I don’t know, something like, “No War for Me No More.”

Bet sat and listened as he thumped and slammed the guitar. Frantically she searched for something she could remark on favorably. Suddenly the lyrics became sarcastic and funny. She laughed.

He stopped playing. “It’s a dilemma, really,” he said. “Here I am a prime example: young and hopeful now, soon dead in a war in a year or two. For what? It’s serious.”

“It’s true, I know,” she said. “What are you going to do? I’m opposed to the war, but what voice do I have in the matter?”

Bet saw a look of scorn on his face. “We should do a protest here in our little town. Just to show we aren’t backward and cowardly. This war affects all of us.”