They want to Invade Venezuela, she speaks in a hushed tone, the site of their conversation an old folks home, Amo is in his bed, a little infirm, moving about requires a care assistant, and there are others to be seen to in the retirement home, it’s a busy little locale, and the needs of the elderly takes a little getting used to, ask your granny, do those hips work the way they used to, well, she’ll smile at you and remember a date she was on way back, the back seat and how the hips didn’t ache, just remembering the smile she wore later, maybe.
Have they learned anything, says Amo, the horror of the last war in Iraq, I suppose the spin machine is at work he says, ageing Mary has the paper in her hands, can’t understand it he says, one minute it’s the wall in Mexico, then it’s the communist plot, boy are they clutching at straws, trying to draw up all the hate their is on earth in order to satisfy themselves, and demons too. No oil no war, that’s the history says Amo. Mary sighs, Amo has a smile on his face, a s
queeze later perhaps, he winks at her, those who cause wars end up getting eaten by it, he plans on a smart prayer, the extremists who have been trying to raise the Ire of all is good, will find their schemes implode on them, have no doubt, Eamo was speaking from direct experience of divine intervention, amen.