He entered limping, though I saw no wound.
He had the posture of a soldier, but no armor.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMwNI7XZ2ar
The breath of a runner, but no destination.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡMp4jMCoPyY
The look of someone who had survived barely and resented it.
He did not sit.
He stood by the wall and whispered:44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWaHb9TwJab
44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZFlJTXNUOg
“How much farther could we march44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbKy39ERSiM
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.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡA3NWzPEj5F
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.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtk9sKBL6OX
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.44Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9F8uB5Wkdx
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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