Pointless Folly by Andrew Owens

Here I lie, on a bed, in a room full of men, some mortally wounded, some with scars that can never be forgotten. A woman stands before me, tending to an arm that has been ripped apart by shrapnel. She looks at me with pity and disgust at the pointless folly of combat and the rivalry of men. I look into her eyes and wonder, if God had put women in charge of the world, would there be such thing as war?