The Wolves of Brandenburg
Journal Entry part 1
In my dreams I search for them still. Though the clouds just out of reach they wait for me. My plane sputtering on its last drops of petrol always stalls before I can reach them. I scream and reach for them my hand outstretched, but it is too late. My plane spirals into the darkness and is lost. Perhaps one day I will soar out of the darkness to my long awaited reunion. But I am getting ahead of myself. I must break the chains that hold us in the present and drift into the bitter sweet ether of the past, to explain how I got to be upon this precipice. Perhaps then you can make sense of things, but I make no promises. Promises are chains, and I will forge no more of those.