Zahfer sat on his bunk, exhausted. This was his first chance to sit down since breakfast, and that was just before the sun came up.
Silence filled the room. This was also the first time today that he was alone. He was finally alone with his own thoughts instead of other's orders.
And as always when he was left to his own thoughts, Zahfer remembered his family.
He dug into the small leather bag under his bunk and pulled out a small painting about the size of a loaf of bread. It wasn't in a gold frame (or in any frame for that matter), and it wasn't painted by a master. In fact, it was painted by an art student who needed money for school. There were not enough shades for it to look very realistic, and it wasn't surprisingly detailed, in the left corner there was even a smear the artist made by accident. But the painting somewhat resembled his family, and besides he could still see his wife's smile, his daughters giggling (one of them holding a stuffed animal), and his son (even though he knew his son's hair had not actually been that neat when the portrait was painted, and that he had not looked that serious). In the painting his son stared back calmly at him. Zuri would be 14 now. Zahfer hadn't seen his son in more than a year, and the portrait painted was almost three years ago.
If he saw him tomorrow, would he look the same? And his daughters? Did Kahli bring her stuffed animal with her when she started school? Did Hazku still want to be apprenticed to the baker? And Zuri, did he mind running the boat business? He had been excited when Zahfer left to be in charge of the business that he had worked in ever since he could be trusted with a hammer, but now that he had had that responsibility for more than a year, was he tired of it? Did he wish he could be an apprentice or go to school more often?
He didn't let himself think about Yelika; he knew his wife wished he was home. He wished he was there, too, when he allowed himself to. Most of the time he just obeyed orders. That was the easiest way to get through the day, usually leaving only the few moments before he fell asleep to miss his family. "Just a little longer," he promised himself and his family. "Soon my contract will be fulfilled, and I'll be able to come home."
Zahfer heard footsteps and low voices, possibly his three roommates, or maybe just other soldiers. Either way, he wouldn't be alone for much longer. He put the picture back. Was he glad he had this free time to think? He didn't know. "I'll be glad" he decided, "when I see my family again".