He entered limping, though I saw no wound.
He had the posture of a soldier, but no armor.58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxLQDVCoO8r
The breath of a runner, but no destination.58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6IHjJKYcmC
The look of someone who had survived barely and resented it.
He did not sit.
He stood by the wall and whispered:58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4eigY7W9H2
58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡnfeiUdZPx8
“How much farther could we march58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡTY1Y1dRfMJ
if we weren’t forced to carry our fears on our backs?”
No one else was in the tavern.
He didn’t look at me.58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ6tCJtTHMEv
But I brewed.
A slow-steep from ironseed, thistleroot, and something rare, gathered long ago from the cloak of a guest who said, “Courage tastes like forgetting what tried to stop you.”
He drank it like it was a punishment.
And then, he cried- not loudly.58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGwenF1wgJw
Just one sound. Like a pack falling from the shoulders.
He left without taking the mug.
And I didn’t wash it.
It still smells faintly of rain and rust.
I don’t know his name.58Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAIcXdA6Q8E
But I remember the sound of what he let go.
And that is enough to keep him from the second death.
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