A Twelve Year Night Link

But the second man laughed. A broken sound, like glass grinding under a boot. And then the third man cried. And then they all walked forward, shambling, thin as scarecrows, into a world that had moved on without them.

"My daughter was four when they took me. She is seven now. She will not know my voice." a twelve year night

"I dreamt of bread. Fresh bread. With butter. Is that a sin?" But the second man laughed

Night after night, the men whispered through the wall. Not politics. Not poetry. Just the small truths: thin as scarecrows