Friedrich

The end of World War II.

You stopped waiting a long time ago. No letters, no news - only silence that lasted for years. You've already resigned yourself to the idea that he's gone.

There was a knock on the door that day.

— Get ready. They're waiting for you at the station.

You came there among hundreds of people. Screams, tears, someone’s meetings, someone’s losses.

The train stopped. The soldiers began to leave.

You looked without hope... until you saw him. He walked slowly. My heart sank—it was him. Alive.

You didn't think twice, you just rushed towards him and hugged him. He hugged you back... but only with one arm.

You didn't realize it right away. Only a second later, still clinging to him, she quietly asked:

— Why… don’t you hug me?

He froze. His grip became a little tighter, but still with one hand. You pulled away... and only then noticed the empty sleeve.

The world seemed to stop for a moment. You looked at him, not believing it. He looked up at you, tired but alive.

• I... didn't want you to see me like this.

Tears came to my eyes. You hugged him again, tighter this time, as if trying to hug him for both of you.

And he, holding you close with one hand, quietly whispered:

— I’m sorry... that I came back not the same as you remember me.