A lonely man
[I wrote this story back when I was 14. This story is really close to my heart.] After school, I walked to the cafe which was located on the way to my house. I entered, took a table next to the window and ordered some french fries, a sandwich and a juice. After a few minutes, an old fellow with white hair, white beard and a broken leg entered the cafe and sat across from me. This had become my daily routine since I had come to the new city. The first time I came into the cafe, it was full. There was not an empty table. But, this old man had been kind enough to offer me a seat on his table. We began with introductions and soon started talking about our past. "You were about to tell me what happened to your family",I said. "Yeah, that", he said, leaned on his chair and began.... "It was the July of 1938 when I got married. I was 21 then. It was a love marraige and I really loved my wife a lot. For two years, we spent a peaceful life even as the world was wagin