#tomas02

Exhausted, bedraggled, and limping as his soles bled into his boots, Alonso finally crested the tops of the stairs and hauled himself down the hallway. His feet hardly felt able to carry him another step further and his shoulder ached beyond measure, throbbing with every pulse of his heart. There was little he could do for it as his weary soul felt even heavier than any of his ailments. All of his searching had bore little fruit and he had not yet found his son Manuel despite nearly screaming his name for near hours on end. Tears pricked his eyes at the overwhelming despair that closes over him and threatens to drag him under. Were it not for his remaining children waiting just beyond for him to return and his sister Teresa still missing he would collapse to his knees and let it wash over him. No, he must continue on. But he does not have to do so alone anymore for he spies a familiar face turn the corner. “Tomas,” he croaks, unable to do much more in his sorry state.