Dear Ficly

Dear Ficly,
I’ve only just come back to this site. I saw this challenge and thought it would be easy. After all, I’ve written about the holocaust before. It was late at night and my mind was truly tired so I decided to look for some inspiration. I’m sure you can imagine the images that come up when you type “holocaust” into google picture search.

The webpage is a patchwork of black and weight. Automatically, I averted my eyes. I’m no stranger to morbid matters so it came as a shock when I reacted so. Bodies; skeletal and naked in the darkness. It hurts, doesn’t it? To know that you belong to a race that could do something like it?

And there’s a child. It’s screaming and so alone. White carcasses looked on as little better than animals. Suddenly there’s no plot to justify it. There are no characters to serve as a memorial to the victims of genocide.

I just wonder to myself: how could I ever think words would express it?

“God must have been on leave during the holocaust” – Simon Wiesenthal.


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