Dragged from his bed and herded aboard a stinking truck, he was deposited at this place called Dachau. He’d been deemed an undesirable element…a political dissident. This was the most absurd lunacy he’d ever encountered. He lectured on French Impressionists, not political sciences! Surely, some mistake had been made!
His eyes were drawn to a leaf, skewered on the cruel wire of the high fence. Buffeted by the cold November wind, its crackle seemed oddly loud. Much like him, the life had been leeched from it, leaving only a desiccated memory behind. Much like it, he was powerless to leave.