Werner was staring at me. His hand was outstretched but his fingers didn’t look right to me; they were bitten and bruised around the cuticles, an inhumane shade of purple. He kept moving in and out of visibility, a whitewash of color buzzing around his head like a halo.
“C’mon, Liesel,” he was murmuring. His pupils were dilated. “Don’t go with them, Liesel. Think of me. Don’t go.”
A rowdy woman was screaming at me on my right. She was the devil perched upon my shoulder while Werner was the angel encased in white. There was snow glistened across his nose, just like I remembered. He was wearing the same clothes as he was the fateful day on the train.
Werner was still speaking in a quiet beg. The desperation in his voice was enough
“C’mon, Liesel,” he was murmuring. His pupils were dilated. “Don’t go with them, Liesel. Think of me. Don’t go.”
A rowdy woman was screaming at me on my right. She was the devil perched upon my shoulder while Werner was the angel encased in white. There was snow glistened across his nose, just like I remembered. He was wearing the same clothes as he was the fateful day on the train.
Werner was still speaking in a quiet beg. The desperation in his voice was enough