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15 Jun 2016

The dress (short story)

Image by Marta Santos

On that summer day back in 1945, mum and dad were happy. They said we had won the war. The allies had come to Reims to rescue us two months ago and that is the reason why mum had bought that dress, for celebration. At last we could forget about all the necessity and anguish we had gone through. The good had won.

So I went outside to use my dress for the first time. German corpses were piled up on the pavement sides, some with opened foreheads. The decomposing odor was increased by heat. Children were throwing stones at them. Women spat at them. Men kicked them and laughed. The good had won.


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