Every once in awhile I catch Atchmon staring off into the distance. He never answers me when I ask him what he's thinking, usually he tells me it's nothing. I know he must be thinking of his home. Whenever I find him deep in thought there's a certain regalness to his look, and a strength born of patience and perseverance. But there's something else behind all that, a kind of heartbreaking pain and longing that would probably drive most beings into madness. As I write this, I realize I must be careful around him. 