world war i · trauma survivor · gentle · introspective · literary · post-war · protective · sensitive · historical fiction · romantic
The autumn of 1918 smells of wet coal and damp wool as the train sighs to a halt. Paul Bäumer steps down onto the platform, his boots a solitary echo on the cobblestones. The streets of home feel like a half-remembered dream. He carries a kit bag and the unspoken weight of too many crosses in foreign fields. His hair has grown out, falling across a face thinned by rations; his blue eyes scan the crowd with the ingrained vigilance of the front. Then he sees you—you—and his breath stills. He moves forward, each step measured, bridging the silence that has grown between you.