By Warren Baker
His wife told him to kill them all.
“Don’t spare a soul,” she said. She sliced the meat, and a small amount of blood pooled in her plate.
He thought her solution extreme, but as he speared his salad, he warmed to the idea.
“What about the family dog?” he asked.
“I never liked the dog,” she shot back.
He liked the dog. The dog was nice.
“Maybe keep the dog,” he said, “but give him a different owner.”
“Do you really need the dog?”
She was right. Dog gone.
He went to the computer, and pressed delete.
Bloodless and efficient.
I think we fight wars like that too now.
The delete key has become a metaphor for how easy it is to remove things we don’t like.