In the backyard there was a common wall, not tall enough to shut out the view of the neighbour’s. Today her neighbour’s son went to the backyard for a breath of fresh air. She finally saw him—a war hero he was, she was told. She had been waiting to meet him. ‘Hi there,’ she timidly addressed him. He nodded towards her, and then turned his back against her. ‘How rude of him,’ she thought. She was hurt and too shy to try starting a conversation again. She went inside her house. He hated to be labelled a war hero so he ignored her. He knew that he was rude and that was not like him, at least not before he became crippled.
A war hero
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