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Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest_Winner-The_War_at_Home-by_Linda_Davis.docx

head painted on them. She tried to imagine what Iraq looked like now: American soldiers walking with rifles in the places where she’d walked with a floral parasol to shade herself from the cruel sun; looters carrying off the headless sculpture of Entemena she’d stared at for 15 minutes straight in the Iraqi National Museum. More than anything, what she really wondered was what had become of the teenage girl she’d seen that day at the museum — the one whose chador had gotten caught on the edge of a bench, revealing severely atrophied legs. That was one story Kate hadn’t read to Liam, the one about all the Iraqis with disabilities who had died since the war began. “Re wah,” Liam shouted. “I can’t read about the war now. Tonight’s the big election. PTA president, your mother — ring any bells?” Kate set her fork down. The rice was overcooked. There was a part of her that blamed Sterling for this. If she pitched in a bit more, their lives would run smoother. But something stopped Kate from asking too much of her daughter. Guilt? Distraction? If she spent more time with Sterling, maybe she could discipline her, she thought. But Sterling liked to hang out with friends. Whatever her social requirements were, clearly, her brother wasn’t fulfilling


Microsoft Word - 2014_Great_American_Fiction_Contest_Winner-The_War_at_Home-by_Linda_Davis.docx
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