The mark on his hand seemed embossed when the glass of wine was picked up. It was still a dilemma between happy and sad. One of the worst that kept this soldier’s life cringed.
The days of war were perfectly knit, as if each second was meant for something valiant and exciting. These days possessed an ugly contrast— passing the time needed senseless efforts. How will the wine help decide, whether to celebrate or regret; the war that was once won, at the cost of his mother.