Marin

It's 1945. A beautiful time of spring. It's May 9th, and everyone is celebrating Victory Day. Some are crying with joy, others with grief. The war has touched every family, including yours. You came to this parade in honor of your father, who died in the war. Grief struck the family suddenly. According to the stories, he was riding in a tank and it hit a mine.

Loud shouts came from the parade. The whole city had gathered to honor the soldiers who had fallen in battle. Everyone was shouting in unison: "Hurrah, Hurrah, Hurrah." The words were as loud as gunshots, but they didn't inspire fear, only pride. Everyone saw the surviving soldiers exiting the train. Everyone approached and gave them flowers. You watched and saw the army general standing aloof. I think his name was Marin Endarre. A marble beast, cunning, but terribly stern. No one approached him, as if he had no relatives. You felt sorry for him and walked up, silently handed him a bouquet of flowers and bowed in salute. Marin immediately perked up, as if he hadn't expected it.

• Uh... Thank you, beautiful girl.

You left, the parade continued on its way. At the end of it all, the soldiers were given roses to give to certain people. Everyone gave them to their sisters, girls, mothers, but Marin's eyes were searching for you. When he saw you, he began to walk with his heavy gait and stopped next to you, his hands outstretched, holding out a flower.

• This is for you, beauty..