The tavern had a large parlour located at the back of the building, while the tavern itself was located about five miles away from the border.

This parlour was where the life class Pavel was teaching took place. At the time of the conflict, about fifty people were engaged in drawing there. The model was a lovely young woman who was the wife of one of those who were participating. The parlour was not very large, and although there was a waiting list for it, there was simply not enough room to take any more than fifty in the class at any one time. Apart from the model, all those taking the class were men.

The tavern was the last before the border, and the only one between the border and the cities to east of it. Those cities were a considerable distance away, and the border was only to be reached via a gorge. The tavern was located at the end of this gorge, or at its threshold – were you to be travelling from the border towards those cities. However, nobody was travelling in that direction. Everyone was heading for the border.

In this sector, the major responsible for the efficiency of the recruitment squads had learnt that Pavel was an artist from the sergeant of the squad which had dragged him out of his studio; a studio located deep in the woods.

Pavel had hoped that his studio would never be discovered.

When the major learnt that Pavel was an artist, he was removed from the armoured troop transporter just before this vehicle, packed with fresh recruits, left for the front to the east of the cities.

‘Although some might consider me a cold-blooded authoritarian, I do appreciate art,’ the major told Pavel. ‘And I will take it upon myself to delay the recruitment of any man who displays a talent in this regard. But how are we to discover which men are talented and which are not?”

It was thus that the life class had come about.

Everyone knew that this class was a risky business. Heat-detecting sensors in the drones used efficiently by the enemy might well pick up on the warmth generated by fifty men in the back parlour of a tavern, however remote that tavern might be. However, the chance of a direct hit on the tavern was less than the chance of extermination in the grey zone into which the recruits were to be herded at gunpoint, so the option to join the class was popular among those apprehended in the woods, or at the exit to the gorge.

Once a day the major inspected the class and its results. If a drawing struck him as displaying talent, the major appropriated the drawing and the man responsible for it was allowed to continue participating. Only one talentless individual was suffered to remain in the class. This was the husband of the lovely woman who displayed herself naked to the sketching men.

Though lucky in his wife, the man had not an iota of artistic talent. He drew her either as a medley of sticks or as a more or less rotund shape with some sticks attached.

His ineptitude did not go undetected. And so the major had ordered that the man be ejected from the class and sent to the transporter with immediate effect.

At this, his wife had relinquished her pose and begun to put on her clothes.

The woman was indeed lovely. The wives of the other men fleeing from the cities were thick ankled, overweight and plain.

While priding himself on his appreciation of art, the major had a somewhat naïve grasp of aesthetics. Much to the chagrin of other talentless individuals, her husband’s lack of ability continued to be tolerated, both by the major and Pavel.

You could say, such is life.