C'EST LA GUERRE (48)

Our tank of furious powers, the Neanderthal specimen continued talking without words so I listened him without paying ears but thinking and looking about what "he did not was saying to me";  that is, what he symbolized and represented I tried for to interpret it somehow. In fact, it is a bit absurd between people in ordinary circumstances this way of communication...  Then the lieutenant took from her vanity case a mirror and a lipstick of bright carmine, although often men see this gesture very flirty and provocative, naturally she touched up her lips with a bit of carmine color. The truth is that the grins and grimaces of the lieutenant before her little mirror seemed to me with a considerable charm and appeal. I watched his gestures with great pleasure.

A shout and a ferocious roar pulled me out of my thoughts which were quite contemplative but close, very close to the lieutenant.

— What happens to the "extinct" imbecile, now? — Said the Lieutenant, interrupting her beautiful trim work.

The poor beast, at the time of to issue his great roar was launched with great agility toward the lieutenant again but this time was rather with his dazzled desire looking for the lipstick or the mirror. We know that the mirrors have played an important role in the history of conquest and discovery. I guess we can say the same (or more) of lipsticks at other historical levels.

Seeing his movement toward the lieutenant, I grabbed my gun from the belt and I fired into the air again. At the same time, some soldiers (chosen sharpshooters) sprayed a hail of bullets at the feet of the Neanderthal who knelt before the lieutenant and began gesturing, indicating the lipstick, and begging her to give it him.


The beautiful woman, took a few finishing touches and closed the mirror and put her objects of beauty on the vanity case. Then the Neanderthal with an expression of desolation, great sorrow and frustration (that gave me some pity for him,) stood up again and with his arms gave us to understand that it was facing a high stone wall. Then he imitated the gestures and attitudes of those who are painting in fresco, we might say. A few seconds later, he returned to launch into the sand and with his hands and fingers, he began to draw bison, deer, hunting scenes, human figures, all in a slick and sketchy art rock style that we all know.

 — Apparently, Lieutenant, he has some sense of beauty and decoration. — I said.

—  Me too, sir —  she said rightly.

— Mainly he represents hunting prey. — I said her.

Upon hearing that we were talking between us again, "our problem" began to gesticulate pointing to himself and to the drawings in the sand and of course, turning to me as the only "interlocutor" of his mimicry. With a sincere expression of anger more than evident.