cold

a story by Erin Barry, ’19

On a newly refurbished porch in Hamburg, an old man stretches his weary back, knotted and twisted with long held aches from long ago exertion. His clothes are well tailored, with shiny buttons and a freshly pressed jacket. 

 His shoes, dirty and well used, are the only exception. The morning is a cold, cold winter morning. Colder and sharper than previous years. The old man’s breath turns to a white fog in front of him, blocking his vision of the shattered glass on the street. He smiles tiredly at how it glitters and shines in the light. How pretty, he thinks.

Kristallnacht. 

 

 

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