Anthology of wounds - Arct

Anthology of WoundsWe were alone, shocked and angry. We felt in thesoul something was broken and could not be gluedagain. So we couldn’t even speak. We spoke with oursilence. The pain was great for those two young persons,so friendly, and so sincere for their friends, familiars,and their parents and our children and for thepeople and the poor Albania!So we had to accommodate. We were so shockedand had a frozen heart but we began to move. At midnightwe finished and thought to eat something. We hadno eaten since 24 hours again ago, but we couldn’t eatanything. It was not easy even to sleep. We were anxious,our brain was in alarm. Gloomy thoughts in ourmind and we had to win this battle for death or life. Thereality was gloomy but we had to live. We had to leavefor our dignity, for our children, and the mother, andeven more to challenger those who caused this. We couldno surrender. So after the night, in the morning we feltin our soul the sparkle of life.We stayed at the window and we absorbed the lifebreathing in what nature was giving us generously. Wefelt as if we found it in the flavors of girls, mothers, andour home memory, and we felt really nice.The next day was as the others, but after that day wewould walk on the unknown. And the greeting of themorning was the roll call. One by one those human shadowswait the roll call. We were like the livestock to be numbered,which attested the presence, with two syllables:Here, here, here … was spread the terrible echo as the denialof the human dignity. Here sounds mechanically evenour voice that was melt on the poor generality.With the hurt soul, wounds of tiredness, with a ter-153