Plowed fields slanted up to the skyline — tapering into perennial distance — scintillating under beams of golden sunlight. All was in the utmost perfection. Amid the soothing scene, two figures stood still like statues, not a word was spoken. Silence.

After seemingly ages had passed by, the petite and feeble figure started to fidget and fumbling with her dark hair. Her hands clutching to the brim of the tall man’s cloak, fingers gripped tighter as the flaming orb gradually sank below the horizon, bringing all the lights with it to somewhere unknown.

“He will be back, right? ”, an unfathomable expression sprawled on her face as she hardly squeezed the words through her parched lips. The boy, who was drifting in a trance, nodded after a pause.

Gales of wind slammed into their faces and soon, drizzles of rain battered upon them. Still, they remained in the same spot. There was a strange strength of hope coruscating behind their blurry eyes, something was supporting them from collapsing. Albeit the harsh weather, their eyes fixed on the other end of the meandering lane; whenever some shadows were casted beyond the boundaries, their hearts pounded harder at full force, choking deep breaths out of their lungs. Their eyes drowned into void when the shadows were not the one they had dreamed for five years.

As the little girl wobbly shuddered in the torrential downpours and almost drooped her eyelids, a familiar figure appeared. The boy lifted the girl up on his shoulders and dashed across the expanse of ranches resembling a bolt of lightning. Warm tears trickled down their cold cheek as the shadow ahead of them became clearer and clearer under the dim glimmer of moonlight.

Just a few inches.

“Daddy!” hollered both the siblings. The father in a dark green uniform stood in surprise at the two flashing ‘balls’ rushing towards him. Sensing danger, his face contorted into a grimace. However, his austere look transformed into a cordial countenance as he was embraced by a soft hug. His beloved children had traversed far distances to welcome him back home. His eyes bent into crescent and his pursed lips curved into an enchanted angle. Wary from toiling in the war as a militant had all effaced at the presence of his dearest family.

‘Late is better than never’, what could be more precious than seeing who we love being safely back home?



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