The pissing match

zips

CCC #62

I awoke to the sound of men fighting. Rolling to the edge of my bunk I came face to face with Miles who was already on his feet, zipping into his trousers.

“Sounds like Dirk and Simmons have finally gotten their teeth into each other.” 

“‘Bout time. Been struttin’ around like a couple a gamecocks for a week now.”

“Who was she anyway?” I asked even though I already knew the answer.

“Some little zipperhead* from the village. Simmons saw her first. Neither one of ‘em could keep it zipped. You know the drill.”

Yeah. I did know. 

What I didn’t know was which one of them killed her. 

And now I would probably never know. 

Now that the pissing match was over, and the truth like so much spent water, would be left to flow under yet another burned bridge.

 

*Zipperhead is a derogatory term coined by US soldiers to denote a person of Asian background during the Korean War.

This piece is my response to Crispina’s photo prompt on Crimson’s Creative Challenge #62.

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