100 words (not including title) 

 A Lancer Drabble by Vicki L. Nelson 

His fever won't break; I sit vigil.  I haven't had him long enough.  His head thrashes on the pillow; he mumbles incoherently but does not wake. 

Does he dream; what of? 

I apply another cold compress to his forehead. 

I doze. 

A blonde toddler with his mother's eyes reaches up his arms to me.  I kneel to scoop him up and breathe in the scent of him. 

“Papa?” he questions. 

I wake to see the same blue-gray eyes staring up at me.  Did I speak the name or did he? 

So many years gone by; my child is finally home.

-The End-