They were brutally pushed inside the dark room, like animals to the slaughter, their newly-shaved heads beginning to really feel the harsh chill of the Polish winter air.
“Hol vagyunk?”* whispered the frail Hungarian lady to herself, for she knew no-one else in the room with her.
She hadn’t seen her husband since their forced separation upon stepping off the train. She had been asked her name, and just like every other woman in that place who bore the yellow star, she replied simply, “Sara.”
Moments later, their cries were heard. The cries of several hundred Saras. The cries quickly faded to nothing. Silence.
This post is part of the 100 Word Challenge for Grown-Ups at The Head’s Office.
Photo credit: eduruiz on Flickr
* “Where are we?”