HORSES

I'm sitting in the sergeants' mess, sipping coffee-house quality coffee and reading a cowgirl adventure comic from the reading rack. Good coffee? Of course, in our century it's French chefs, we are the European Union Rapid Reaction Force.
The racetrack crowd returns, Nasreen slumps next to me, cursing. Now me, I started life learning Dari, Pashtu, English and German. A career in peacekeeping and I've learned chunks of French, Spanish, Portugese, Tagalog, Gaelic, Greenlandic Eskimo, Hindi, Saulteaux, Gaelic and Arabic. And in there is oaths even I haven't heard, so it must be a spectacular meltdown at the track today.
"Uh Farzana, reckon you can loan me ten till payday?" Worldless, I pass it over. Yes, she always repays, but it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. In AA parlance, that makes me an enabler. I'm aiding and abetting a greedy government to commit a sin.
We've known each other forever, saved her life in Londonderry, she returned the favor in Beirut. My eye falls on the comic, an ad for the tollfree helpline. With a gentle smile, I hand it to her.