Reunion
Her husband returned alone, as planned. Their son had been eager to go, entrusted with a soldier's work, a bold hero. Now the boy was gone, and her husband home again, stricken and silent.
"Fares he well?" she asked.
Her husband looked away. She knew he would never speak. But she urged anyway: "Well?"
He held up his white hand. She folded her dark fingers close around it; their hands entwined, light and shadow in perfect balance.
"Like him," she whispered. "Tell me he's well."
He bent to kiss her hand.
Then he raised his head and kissed her mouth.