Life's what you make it.

Elsebeth Rhiannon has no life. She told me it was because she was too busy.

So I told her, like the aunties told me, that after the war there has to be something worth while to come home to.

I have a home, but increasingly it feels like I am unfit for that civilized company

She's like me; like I was.

You can be again, if you want. I know.

I know. I've been lost worse than she is; well, worse than I think she is. I came back; with help.

Maybe if the war is over one day.

Even if the war isn't over, there is still time to be human.