Hope - A Little Drabble Do Ya ... A Double Drabble

[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

The air was fresh from a morning rainstorm, all of the smells of the city washed away for the time being.  Two men sat on the steps of the brownstone where one of them lived, each thoughtful of the preceding day’s events.

One of their own had fallen to an enemy bullet, a warrior for the cause of justice.  At least they hoped for that.

“Do you ever…?”
“Think it might be one of us?  Yes.  And no.”

Napoleon looked at his friend and partner, a question unformed but begging for an answer.

“I merely believe that it is possible, and hope that it will not come to pass.”

“Ah.  Hope?  Coming from you that sounds a lot like faith in something.”

The blond lowered his eyes to see to the little kitten that often slept on the stoop.  The two had formed a bond of sorts and Illya often fed it.

“We are a little like this creature; we do what comes naturally to us and without conscious thought of the consequences expect to be able to repeat our lives day after day.”

“Do you think maybe we have nine lives?”

“One can only hope.”

That made Napoleon smile.
 

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[glennagirl.livejournal.com]

Hope is the anchor, without it nothing else works. Thanks for commenting.