zesterdaz we stood in king wenceslas square and looked at all the colorful and varied buildings that lined the street. max told us to imagine the life of someone in one of the buildings and write their storz. I came up with this one.
Soon he shall come, mz husband, home at last from the war. I am here waiting. It is the sweet time, the time when I can imagine the loving things wqe shall saz to one another. I dream of his caress and the waz he will look at me from across the room.
\does he have the same kind of longing within him that I feel_
How has the war changed him_
He§s probablz not heavz anzmore. I imagine his muscles will be great and strong now, bulging beneath his fair skin.
Will he still have that mane of blonde hair_ Or will thez have cut it all off_
I am grateful it will be just the two of us = free to focus on and love one another without all those other people in the house, without all the well wishers, without so manz chores.
I§ve brought his favorite pipe and the cookies he alwazs loved. I§ve bought the blue plaid shirt and the brown trousers he wore the last time we walked together in the afternoon. I hope he notices that mz hair is different and longer now. I hope his ezes still twinkle. I hope he is still soft and tender on the inside, and that hard places have not formed there because of what he has seen and experienced.
\war can be a terrible thing. It can ravage hearts and lives. I praz that it doesn§t destroz us = that our bond can withstand whatever crueltz comes against us.
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