He died in Afghanistan.
I was always the wild one, but you know what they say about opposites attract. He used to read me beautiful poetry. I used to shout slogans for our cause. He bailed me out of jail. I’d told him we deserved a bailing out party.
“Your pompous patriach and his anti feminist flunky are gone for two days!” I told him.
Probably my idea to put toothpaste in the ice cream too, and then to have the ice cream fight.”That’s the last straw!” his mother had shouted, arriving home. “The military for you, son!” said his father. Wrong war, you bastard.
For FF 100W stories – run admirably by Rochelle picture by the incomparable Renee – extra picture of ”narrator” taken of a FEMEN activist for women’s rights, on location, the only ‘Feminista’ group I wholeheartedly support.