Young Writers Society

The aged and old man sat there, gazing out over the forested green hills before him, sighing deeply. The wind carried a slight chill so he hugged his weathered leather jacket close. Feeling restless, he stood up, cane in hand, and started off down the grassy hill, as fast as his out-of-date cyborg leg would allow.

At the bottom of the hill, the man disappeared into the thick woodlands. Oh what memories this land brought him! Old memories from what seemed like a different life, wonderful times and horrible ones. He felt free in this forest.

Making his way down a small trail, he felt his matallic leg beginning to clog so he stopped, finding a fallen tree trunk that looked well suited for sitting, he rested a while. As he sat there, he allowed his mind to wander, far back into things that seemd so incredibly long ago, when he was just a young, brave, soldier.

For the first time in a long while, he fully remembered...

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