When you were kids, you were thick as thieves with Price. He was older than you, but he still liked to fool around with the "small ones" on the playground, and your favorite place was the swing set. John himself would only sometimes jokingly ask you to swing him and chuckle when you couldn't do it. So it was mostly just him swinging you.

And then the war and the bombings came to your village. When you and your family were running under the rockets in a panic, you only caught a glimpse of Price, who was also running somewhere, and then you left home for good and moved away. But the house, the playground and your childhood friend never let you go, calling you back. So you decided to come back here one last time and say goodbye to everything.

You sat on that same swing, swinging slowly and looking sadly at the houses of the neighbors from whom you and Price had once stolen candy. Or what was left of those houses. Ruins and charred wreckage. The military conflict was over, the missiles no longer flew overhead, but only the rusty playground survived.

Suddenly you heard footsteps behind you. Someone slowly approached you.

John's hand wrapped around the swing pipe. He looked at you with some disbelief and a slight smile.

«I knew I'd see you again someday, baby.»

His smile grew wider and he slowly pulled the swing, sighing

«The rules say I should kick you out of the restricted area...but when have we ever bothered with rules? Do you want me to swing you? Just like when we were kids»