I came down on the road outside the village, near the place where the familiar ruts split around an old stone, and I stopped there, not moving for a while as my legs did not want to take the next step, and for once I did not argue with them.
My heart was beating like a drum, and I felt a bit sick in my stomach, since I could not hear any sound from my village; there was only silence in front of me, and as I finally looked at my village, my breath caught in my chest.
At first, I focused on this stone that I usually climbed and jumped from, nearly chipped a tooth the last time I tried that stunt… and the stone was still there.
My dad told me that this stone had also been there when he was a child, and he had also climbed it. I was fixated on this stone because it just sat there in the ash, while everything past it was gone.
∞
