Her back ached and her stomach murmured, with a silent sore hunger. She straightened up with a few straggling sticks in her hand and gazed at the gate and stonewall that circled the city. Her husband crushed, repairing the very gate, she stood without. The memories of his love crammed away like the kindling she now stuffed in her satchel. The sticks would fuel a flame to feed a final meal for her only boy and perhaps her too.