Losing him would, she realised, be unlike anything she had ever experienced before. A marriage is a conspiracy, a shared aspect toward the rest of the society, a code devised over a long history of negotiation and habit. That code would vanish. Her thoughts would be unobserved, her memories would be hers alone, without the heft that comes from sharing them with another. She would become insubstantial to herself.
Matthew De Abaitua
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Silence abides. Nobody talks. Nobody can talk. No man knows his own mind. Fear prises the body and soul apart as neatly as a scallop knife - pop! He is no longer in control of himself. Someone or something else commands him: the war itself. He runs in expectation of death - any second, any second now - and then his soul will hang around like so much chaff until a stiff breeze disperses it and he will return to the source.
Matthew De Abaitua
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