In Memoriam

‘I just have one more question for you if you don’t mind.’

‘Please, go ahead. In fact, I’ve been waiting for you to ask.’

Circles of light embraced the old woman poised on her chair. Navy jacket, gold floral broach, grey hair sparkling in the light.

‘Could you show me your number?’

‘Of course.’

A calm voice and a gentle smile. She pulled up her sleeve with a wrinkled hand. A collection of numbers stamped onto her skin silently screamed of evil and pain endured decades before.

She rolled her sleeve back down and folded her hands neatly in her lap.

‘Thank you very much Mrs Botwin. I think we have everything we need now. We really appreciate you sharing your story.’

Mrs Botwin stood and shook hands with the young lady who had been interviewing her. The camera operators began to power down their equipment which surrounded the old woman’s chair like obelisks encircling sacred ground.

The three-dimensional interactive video installation would be ready for the public in three months time.

Mrs Botwin spent the rest of her day thinking about the unborn children who would be able to visit the exhibit and ask her questions about the horrors of her past even though she would be resting in her grave.

Inspired by a short piece published in an issue of the The New Yorker, early 2018