WAITING
Petra was crouching in the garden, the hem of her skirt all covered in mud, as she uprooted weeds from the watery ground. She didn't care, her life was like before. She was like she once was, when she lived with her uncle in Sina. Joy had disappeared from her life.
The sun was shining beautifully as she kept on working for nothing. That was when her gaze wondered to the same place, where Levi had painted a picture of the white end of the mansion and the trees next to it. She kept on staring.
The day was turning into a night, and the girl moved her gaze determinedly from that place. I will not think about that cruel man, she thought proudly and wiped a fly out of her cheek with her muddy thumb. It painted a brown streak on her face, but she didn't care. He abandoned me and left for the border, even though he could have stayed here, she tought and delved the garden with brisk moves. I'll show him, when he gets back, I'll show him when he gets back...
Tears started imperceptibly moisten the girl's cheeks, but she didn't care and wiped them away making more streaks on her face. She thought capriciously, that she would cold-shoulder the young man when he would come back, so that he would understand into what he had left her. All those feelings of optimism and dreamly looks had disappeared after the start of the war. She didn't care, even though the roots broke the skin of her fingers and the sun burned her nose.
She kept on working even more briskly, pulling every redundant thing out of the garden with harsh and frightening moves, and tossed them to a pile not so far away from her.
''Petra.''
She turned around, stood up shaking the dryed mud out of her hem and ran. She didn't care about the nights spent awake, she didn't care about the tearful times in the basements, about the dreams filled with self-hatred and fear, not about the evenings filled with hatred and bitterness. She didn't care when she throw herself into the arms of the young black haired man and pressed her muddy and chappy lips emphatically on his mouth. The young man went confused for a moment, but answered soon to the kiss with similar passion and pressed his hands on her waist.
How good his hands could feel.