Anthology of wounds - Arct

Anthology of WoundsWhen we arrived at the station, the line of cars as amortal cortege went on traveling south. In our carclimbed another new person, P. Guga, with his clothesluggage. He looked so sad. My husband knew him alittle, but now we were joined by the same destiny. Ourgreetings were, poorly, frozen as our soul was, black asthe night of our future.He was in the top of our physical and psychologicalabilities, in the period when life hopes for light morethan ever, right now the ax bump in the trunk. We weretired of the life, and when we must be cured from thelast wounds this hit made us feel worse. We were unableto give hopes to each other. This meditative silencewas shelter of our gloomy thoughtsAfter some hours of an anxious travel, near the destination,the district of Lushnja, the group was spread ondifferent directions. We were included in the group madeof four families and two singles. The sector appointed forus, was in the deepest bog of the district. In the past thatpiece of swamp was full of snakes, endless mosquitoes,etc It was called Shenapremte. Actually was simply named“Sector” while the interned that populate it, had baptizedit the “reaction city”, because the most of the families wasthe family of high functionary executed or escaped, fromBajraktar related, that were killed in the fights or the killedwith or without judgment, the escaped on the last periodof the war or after it some of them that compared the conditionswhen they had come, when the enter until the throatin the mud, with the other now, ironically said to us: Youhave come now with hands in your pockets, you have noreason to comply! What a bitter irony!* * *150