The deprivations of war stripped nearly everyone of their soul, but somehow she remained innocent. She was at an age where she was leaving behind childhood but was hardly a woman. Her body was a woman's, but when she talked, it betrayed her naivety. She saved her best of everything for the parade that day. For the first time, she rugged her cheeks, and her mother braided the chestnut locks that flowed down to the neckline on her dress. Feeling it was only right, she welcome the soldiers home. She stayed for the entire parade and cheered herself hoarse, blowing the occasional kiss from her painted lips. She was there for them all, but like many swooning girls lining the streets, there one she was there for the most, the hero of the hour was a dashing young Captain. From an extraordinary city built from glamor and dreams, she had only seen on postcards and had only visited in her dreams. Being more modest than she was beautiful, the lass didn't think the famed martial Don Jua
This is a collection of anecdotes from the fringes of reality, a tapestry stitched together from our dreams as well as our nightmares, from the fears that haunt the collective imagination. These are the symptoms of the sickness known as the human condition.