Chapter 1
Footsteps. A door opens. He steps in. Shriveled, weak. He walks across the attic. Kneels down at a wooden chest. He pulls the key out from his shirt pocket, wrapped in a handkerchief. Hands shaking, he inserts the key, turns, opens.
Light bounces off the glass inside the chest and onto the back wall. He picks it up. Stares at the picture: a man, a lady, and a little boy. His arm wrapped around the lady, his other arm rested on the shoulder of the boy. Bright smiles beaming from their faces as they stand in front of their little home.
A tear runs down his wrinkled cheek. He stares for a few more minutes. Soaks in every breath of happiness the image emits. His eyes close. He is young again. His son is there. And so is his wife. Nothing is there to break their joy. Nothing is there to steal them away. Nothing is there to break them apart. They are there, together. Just for a moment.
Then he opens his eyes. The wretched world comes back. Everything is gone. Everyone is stolen. He is alone.
Another tear.
