Anthology of wounds - Arct

Anthology of Woundsto help him get up when a big hand took him with apowerful strength. Then I helped him too. We were turningback to the camp and together with the weight ofthe tiring of the day, we both kept by arms a man thatwas almost dead. During the road we didn’t speak atall. In front of barracks we let the sick person. He didn’tmove. We called the pharmacist that for our good luckwas a real hero. He put him on the bed. We understoodeverything by the mimic of pharmacist face. Near to theperson that was dying we said the first words with theperson that had helped to carry the sick man both withme. Since that day he became my friend. We found themoment when we were altogether and went and cameback from work to greet and to talk to each other. In thecamp this was more difficult. One day after I introducedmyself he told me his name. He was named HamdiGjoni. He was graduated from Madrasa of Tirana andhad fight since too young to serve where the countryneeded him. He was like a real man. He had a strongbody that never gave up and he had a beautiful smile,part of his character. He spoke slowly, convinced, foreverything he said. I liked him since at the beginningand I start to love him. In the difficult hours of work, inthe endless suffering days of camp, we made so close toeach other. He was so smart and gave me advice. Hewas more pragmatic and helped me. He was very stoic,assertive, and brave and he was like a model for methat I could not found in the daily life. This man gaveme inspiration, faith in myself and determination. I reallyliked him. He was for me like an island of supportin that sea of sufferings. I was so happy to have a friendlike this.* * *103