~*( As Isaac finished his letter, the fog of the morning rested heavy upon the village of cookie-cutter houses. This foreign land was not where he’d envisioned himself this year, but the events of the year past had been asking for it. Bits of moisture clung to his forehead as he leaned out the window and breathed the air of what was “the enemy’s” homeland. He pondered if anyone who’d left that small town with his generation had remembered his name.
Desert and death lay beyond the high wall that encircled the camp. Isaac could just make out the curving enigma of sand dunes over the sandstone barrier if he leaned his body upward. That one small glimpse was enough to make him feel insignificant and solitary in the same measure. As far as Isaac could discern, being here was the closest thing to being forgotten.)*~

--- This was inspired by my my two best friends back home. ---