Returning

After three years of dealing with brutality and making villagers put up with it, I didn’t want to return home. As I neared my village, a drizzling rain fell and my heart was heavy. No uniform, no marching, no killing, but deer roaming through the village silkworms buzzing in the mulberry groves, and fruit drying on the roofs. Sweep the house and light the stove. I said that I’d return and here I am.