A Single Swallow

by Zhang Ling

Facing death is a form of bravery, but so is facing life.

He finally understood that the secret of these malnourished people of small stature for walking such long distances was the same as that which had enabled them to endure long-term poverty. They knew how to conserve their resources. They broke their energy into smaller units, using it sparingly, exactly the same way they managed their silver coins. They never used their energy on emotions like anxiety, excitement, depression, or despair. They didn’t think about how far they had traveled from their starting point, nor did they consider how far they were from their destination. They just focused on the next step.

We weren’t brought together by one love, but by one hate. Was hate a stronger bond than love, or weaker? When our common hatred no longer existed, would they remember me? Would I remember them?

The war had called on him to cast everything aside, and now peace demanded that he pick it all up again. He seemed to have no idea how to deal with peace.

I really had no plan beyond that. The future was something only a free person could think about. For someone trapped in a dark cage, to hope for something so distant was absurd. The only viable plan was to become free.