Snippet 1: I woke up early next morning and busied myself with things that strictly speaking did not need doing, just to get some air. When I could not find anything else to do, I went back inside and found the book I was reading. But I could not concentrate. My gaze strayed towards the other end of the room, to my guest bed and the person who occupied it.
He was a riddle. Silent and unmoving, his face was innocent, almost childlike in his sleep, and it still held more down than actual stubble. It seemed so at odds with his clothing. The garments seemed innocent at first sight, fit rather loosely on his body, but I could have recognized them anywhere. They were soldier's garb, and I knew where from.
A thousand questions passed through my mind as I sat there in silence. The only sounds that were heard in the room was his slightly erratic breathing and me turning the pages. I had no idea what I actually read, if reading was the term for it. I found myself staring at him for long periods