Dissenter

And it plays out all around him; a macabre opera where the tragic love story unfolds in the theatre of war. The victors are a vibrant, bullish red as they dance around him with their guns held aloft, the words from their mouths unintelligible as they prod and kick at his tired limbs. Among the backdrop of agony and barked orders, he can hear the swan songs of his comrades; high and thready as if sung by the finest of sopranos, smatterings of gunshots the perfect accompaniment. This is not just their grand finale, either — it is sound of a country falling to its knees, of a country betrayed by those whom she thought she could trust.

Yes, Germany is lost. And so he runs.