Perched on a bench beside my father, our eyes turned towards the dark heavens, where the moon's luminance bestowed its gentle glow upon us.
The oppressive silence shattered as my father posed a question.
"How's the military?"
Given its nothing special, my response was honest yet ambiguous.
"So-so."
Fredrick, my father, nodded solemnly, exhaling a sigh that seemed to release the weight of the world from his shoulders. The weariness etched on his face dissolved into the night air, his ebony locks swaying gently in the breeze as his creases softened.
For a time, he remained in quiet contemplation, and when no further inquiries arose from him, I ventured to ask.
"How are they?"
Understanding what I meant, Fredrick let out a sad smile as he replied.
"They believed that you are not dead because… well, it is you." He paused, "But if you're not going to come back, they might believe at that on some point."
