Anthology of wounds - Arct

Anthology of Woundssmiling that when she wanted to have some meat shedid like that. She chose the best cow, fed it on the grassand when it was full she put the knife on it. The damagedcow was brought directly to the abattoir, and Netawith her rights took the part of meat and all the interiorparts of it.She spread over the sector pieces of punch. Even thisbutcher profession she had gained there added to mybad feelings for that woman.During the summer she saw her son, who was a studentof the first year at agriculture school of Korça.One day he came near my fence and asked me anItalian dictionary. He wanted to learn Italian.The entire rancor I had for his mother I deflated tohim although he was unfortunate, his father was deadand his mother was interned so far. I said to him withoutopening the “door” that the language could not belearned in this way and that I had no one. Later I feltbad for my gesture and that I didn’t try to help him. Hewas a doubt victim too. This doubt for people and theself-protection instinct maybe was destroying us….After the big iron gate of the camp was a particularbuilding. Gjon’s family lived there. It was interned since1975. They both had been good workers. Roza had herpicture taken among the best workers of the city in thetable of the Emulation of Professional Units. She hadbeen candidate to be the heroine of the Socialist Labor,but there were some letters from Mirdita written for her.It was written there: How could they live in Tirana, inthe capital, when was known that Gjon’s father hadhelped anti-Communist guerillas!? Some others said he58