He was going home. No, not home, he had no home anymore, the war had seen to that. Luka turned slightly in the tight space that the bus seat offered him. Many of those in the bus were carrying on quiet conversations, his seatmate had tried to engage him in one when the journey had begun, he couldn't do it. Not here, not now, not knowing that at some point the conversation would come around to who and what they had lost. It was the one thing they all shared besides the fact that they were here at all, the thing that had placed them on this very bus.
"Are you sure you wouldn't like to talk? It'll help pass the time." The man's voice crept into his thoughts and prompted him to sigh before opening his eyes again in response.
"I told you, I just want to be left alone." There was a touch of fatigue in his tone that no amount of sleep seemed able to erase, and as he finished he turned fully away. He wanted to watch the passing scenery about as much as he wanted conversation, but, the man was leaving him little choice.
"I'm just trying to be friendly." The man offered the grumbled apology before turning toward the aisle and the conversation that was taking place across from him.
Wearily Luka dropped his forehead against the cool glass, so many deaths, so much destruction, how could anyone believe things could return to what they were before the war started? How could anyone believe any of this could ever be undone?
As his eyes settled on the ruined buildings Luka couldn't help but find the similarity to what his own life had become. Both had once held the hopes and dreams of futures to come, and now they were nothing but hollow empty shells. It took everything he had to look away once the comparison was made and without thinking he withdrew the small photo of his wife and daughter.
This was supposed to be a fresh start, how could they be so wrong?