A Life Beyond
February 1943, Vienna She always complained about how vague he was with goodbyes. Whether he was coming back in a few hours or in days or weeks, she could never tell. He would walk away as briskly as he did, as if he were going to the market. He laughed at her childish complaints, mostly because there was nothing he could do about them. All his life, he had assumed that having a family would tie him down to more worldly things. He wanted to be free of attachments one way or another. But who knew what fate had in store for him when she walked in through his office door with her innocent eyes and smiling face. In a life of war, it was when he truly felt at peace. He picked up his hat as the radio chattered on about the impending wars and damage of last night's air strikes. She was nurturing the baby close to her bosom, smiling down at her sleeping figure and whispering her name into her ears. The sense of being watched made her look up at him as he smiled, almost sheepishly, like a ...