Yellow Beach

George invited the woman to join him and gestured to the waiter, a small man with a big moustache.
“Anyone with common sense would’ve done the same,” George said.
After a minute chatting, when the woman introduced herself as Celia and explained how she was a single parent from England and had only let Claire out of her sight for a moment, George reached into his jacket pocket.
“This is the culprit,” he said, placing a fragment of brass on the table. “It’s off a shell casing from the war.”
Celia picked up the metal and turned it over and over, feeling the edge.
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