The Cats of Auschwitz
Somehow it is the cat, and not the train yard, that makes me weep.
A bus, this time, takes us through the iron gate.
It is the same, yet not the same, the oldest of us, a woman past one hundred, remarks in pointed Yiddish.
A tomcat crouches on a windowsill, unbothered by the frozen air.
“I try to rehome him,” explains the guide, in English, “but he escape and come back.”
The tomcat nuzzles against my coat and purrs. "He just want food," the guide laughs.
I had resolved not to weep, to give them none of my tears, but I had not expected this soft heartbeat inside my coat, purring for food.
About the Creator
Eric Dovigi
I am a writer and musician living in Arizona. I write about weird specific emotions I feel. I didn't like high school. I eat out too much. I stand 5'11" in basketball shoes.
Twitter: @DovigiEric
Keep reading
More stories from Eric Dovigi and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Reaching Out
I promise her. I'd do anything for her. She's my mom. Even as Lanie and Deanna are flying home, Mom is scrappy fighting dying. She lays too still in that too-big bed with all the toasty white hospital blankets, in the south tower, at the broad end of a long slow-turning corner that delivers me again to her private room with the view she can't see through, with the beeping that tells us nothing new, and all these ice chips she can't swallow, and a flood of well-intentioned nurses who cannot do a damned thing all the same.
By Christy Munson4 days ago in Fiction
Love Unveiled: A Billionaire's Unlikely Union with his Servant
Love Unveiled: A Billionaire's Unlikely Union with his Servant Love knows no bounds. It transcends barriers of distance, culture, and time, weaving its way through the fabric of existence without constraint. It is a force that defies logic, a feeling that knows no limits or boundaries. Whether near or far, in moments of joy or sorrow, love remains steadfast and unwavering.
By Abdul Qayyum5 days ago in Fiction
Comments (1)
oooof, my heart