What would you do?

In fifteen days, summer vacation will be over.

War. Lost lives. The fire that tears lovers apart. The flames of war are ablaze once again.

“General --- we are losing men. We need you and your troops ---”

Legna sat on his chair and kept on looking at the window. He was pretending to be serious in listening to the captain’s request for back-up.

“General Legna!”

It's two-thirty in the morning in a Toronto condominium. In a contemporary kitchen, one can find a refrigerator, a stove, a dishwasher, a sink, a kitchen working area, a swinging door.

Eve collapsed into a heap on the ground, clutching the grass as if the green mass was the only thing keeping her from being pulled to the center of the earth. She trembled, feeling as if all the bones that had supported her for the past twenty years had been painfully extracted from her, though concerned onlookers viewed no signs of physical aching. Yet she felt torn away from all these people, their worried voices a distant concern to her own well-being. The deep pain that she was experiencing was of no concern to them.