The Long Road Home.

He had been gone for months; now his feet could not carry him home fast enough. The dusty road that he had followed so many times as a child and as a newly married man still looked the same the woods beyond called to him as they had as a child. Beyond the pastures of yesteryear called to him. The fence along the road had been the same, with a few patches. The scent of the dirt was pleasing to his nose.

He carried the same small case that he had carried when he left for the war. His clothes were a few years out of style. He could see his house now, just over one more hill. The golden color of the grasses told him of the heat the fields had endured. The cattle looked healthy enough. He could hear the neighboring running and playing kids in the fields. He could smell the dinner that was almost done. He could see her hanging out the clothes on the line.

He stopped to stare at her. She was still just as pretty as she had been when he walked down that road a year ago. He could see that she had changed a little like she had filled out in the right places. Nothing had made him love her any less, not the time, the change in looks, the war raging over seas, or the awful things he had seen.

She could feel someone staring at her. She turned and looked around the yard. She glanced down the road and saw him. She would know him anywhere. He had lost weight, but he still stood the same and his hair still glistened like corn silk in the sunlight.

She ran down the dirt road he had walked down to leave and today walked down on his return. He opened his arms and she ran into them. She couldn't believe he was home. She looked at him. His eyes had changed, they had a sorrowful expression. She smiled at him.

She hadn't changed much, but he could tell that she was glad he was home. He was glad that old dirt road had brought him home to her again.

Learn more about this author, Jacqueline Sanders.
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