he continued to read, he caught sight of two names:
His name and his mother’s.
The man’s hands started to tremble. He was holding something made by his father, who had crouched at
the exact spot, carving these exact stones years ago.
And a guard of about sixty years old watched the young man from a distance. He recalled that familiar
scene that happened a long time ago.
The guard was pained to see the man’s son here. But was it worth it for the sake of the country?
The guard could not fathom an answer.
* * *