The Grave

Poland 1943

He'd seen dead bodies before, too many perhaps but today there were more than ever.

He'd watched them being led, wailing and screaming into the gas chambers. But now look at them, piled high in a steaming tangle of twisted limbs and broken spirits they waited patiently to be buried.

At least they hadn't started rotting yet; the smell of rotting flesh was apt to put him off his lunch, almost.

He plunged his spade into the earth; soon it would be winter and the ground would be frozen. He might need a new spade.