In front of me a man stumbled and those following him fell on top of him.
The guard rushed over and used his whip on them all.
Thus my thoughts were interrupted for a few minutes.
But soon my soul found its way back from the prisoner’s existence to another world, and I resumed talk with my loved one:
I asked her questions, and she answered; she questioned me in return, and I answered.
“Stop!” We had arrived at our work site. Everybody rushed into the dark hut in the hope of getting a fairly decent tool.
Each prisoner got a spade or a pickaxe. “Can’t you hurry up, you pigs?”
Soon we had resumed the previous day’s positions in the ditch.
The frozen ground cracked under the point of the pickaxes, and sparks flew.
The men were silent, their brains numb. My mind still clung to the image of my wife.
A thought crossed my mind: I didn’t even know if she were still alive.
I knew only one thing—which I have learned well by now: Love goes very far beyond the physical person of the beloved.
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