The humid of the sweat, the weight of the tired limbs, the relentless checking on time on the many devices that have rendered clocks a matter of the past. Breathes interrupted by sighs, light to heavy as the calendar counted down.
Right! There was no clock. There was no calendar either, except in their minds. No sound, no light, no touch, except for themselves. Wasn't that all to ask for?
But then, there was apprehension; apprehension of the inevitable. Which overtook every glory those moments could have brought along. Apprehension was overbearing, it took it all away.
Another indefinite goodbye.
It was nothing like home!