The clock ticked onto 11:50, a knock came from the front door.

Julia swung the door open, and a man dressed in an army uniform greeted her. Head bowed and in silence, he solemnly handed her husband’s uniform, decorations, and a letter over.

She walked, almost robotically, over to a chair and sat down. Julia stared into the void, still trying to process her emotions. The three items sat in her lap. Taking a deep breath, she gathered whatever courage she had left, and opened the letter.

Dear Julia,

It breaks my heart to say I won’t be coming back to her birthday, I was just informed by the captain that southern conquest of land was a failure, and has been taken back, and I won’t be able to return to your arms until this is over.

I’ve just been called out, so, I’ll finish writing this letter later.

The rest of the paper was streaked with eraser marks, and the letters became more erratic. For a minute, Julia had hope. She had hope that they would be together, but no, the uniform and medals on her lap wouldn’t be there.

Her tears fell over the page, smudging the writing along with it as it rolled down, making what unreadable text even harder to understand.

I’m afraid that I won’t be able to come back for reasons that you may know already, I’m too weak to move, and now I just want you to know that my sacrifice was not for nothing.

Tell our daughter Anna that she will see the stars again, and to not give up trying after that incident. Her heart is full of hope, and giving up doesn’t come from the heart, it comes from the mind.

Tell my mother that when she visits my grave, she’ll promise to leave me with one of those strawberry cakes that she made me when I was a child. I wish I could have one of those right now, but I cannot.

I leave these words for my daughter, mother, father, and for you. I hope that we can see each other smiling at each other again in the future. There’s no need to hurry, we both have plenty of time.

With love,

John