The music begins its slow descent. The choir fades, leaving only the soft, reverent strings.
In the small town of Oak Creek, Thomas sat by the window, the morning fog clinging to the glass like a shroud. In his hand was a fountain pen, heavy and cold. Across from him sat a stack of clean stationery and a weathered leather ledger containing the names of twenty-two families. Hymn To The Fallen (From "Saving Private Ryan" Soundtrack)
Thomas looks out at the town square. In his mind’s eye, the square isn't empty. It’s filled with them. There is Silas leaning against the lamp post; there is Arthur chasing a dog; there are all twenty-two of them, translucent and golden in the morning light. They aren't soldiers here. They are sons, brothers, and first loves. The music begins its slow descent
The music begins with a distant, steady snare—the heartbeat of a ghost. In his hand was a fountain pen, heavy and cold
As the trumpets reach their peak, a triumphant yet heartbreaking salute, Thomas feels the weight of their sacrifice. It isn't just the lives they lost; it’s the lives they never got to lead—the weddings never held, the children never born, the quiet autumns they’ll never see.