Boy-o-boy! Don’t know what me and the boys drank last night but it must’ve been good.
Must’ve been plenty.
Nothing’s in focus. Buildings are all wonky and, at this end of the street, there’s a giant caterpillar face.
Do you see it? Just there?
Oh, never mind.
Džons. That’s what we drank! That’s what the clean-up crew always drinks.
Me, Juris, Edgars, even Ilze drink when we’re done digging through rubble looking for the remains of our families.
Ilze. So beautiful! I hope we’ll marry when this ugly war is over.
Džons is the only way to relieve the discomfort of concrete dust that dries our nostrils,
and clear the stench of moldering flesh.
Džons. Džons. Džons.
Džons runs through my veins day and night.
Džons keeps me sane.
“Come with me, Love.” Ilze gently steers her husband’s wheelchair out of the garden and into the asylum’s foyer.
Up From the Ashes 
Super story, Lish! Great concept executed with panache.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Penny.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh! That took me way in another direction. Wonderfully done.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you liked it. Thanks, Dale.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How tragic, that his memory and cognition are so deteriorated that he believes himself back in those old days again, and not very nice ones, either. And how awful for poor Ilze, caring for a husband who doesn’t remember their life together.
When I first saw the photo it immediately struck me that it was blurry, and I wondered whether that was an accident, so it was cool to see how you wove it into the story so well.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Joy. There were several pictures of this view. This was the only one that was blurry. It struck my fancy.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like where you went with it, very creative.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely story, Lish. I love the rhythm.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Josh.
LikeLike
I like the way the story connected to the photo – and having an aging father-n-law – I could relate a bit more to this.
Also,
the closing line had tasty nuggets:
““Come with me, Love.” Ilze gently steers her husband’s wheelchair out of the garden and into the asylum’s foyer.”
the term of endearment with “love”
her gentle sterring – shows calmness and comfort
and
leaving the garden back to the place
synced with his memory’s of back then and then being back to now
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, thanks for your thoughtful comment. I took care of my dad before he passed. He saw red and blue colors in the sky one minute and told my sisters and me how to fill out tax forms for him ~ correctly ~ the next. I’m glad you’re there for your father-in-law.
LikeLiked by 1 person
well I am on a break from helping with the ol’ F-I-L – but paid my dues above and beyond for someone I “love” as a human but do not like as person (he is high narcissitic and I helped him as God led me to when he needed it most – but now he is in good hands and whew)
and my sister’s Father n law had a unique experience – the night before he died – he was in his living room and stood up and pointed at the air – and in his broken Italian he pointed and said stuff like “You go – and you leave – you all get out of here right now”
he was shooing some group away – –
and your dad seeing those colors in the sky is so interesting – and the taxes – that was fun – and sorry for your loss – he was blessed to have you and your love
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks. My dad was a delightfully unique man ~ and I mean that in a good way. Great sense of humor, incredibly smart and loved Mom as much as she loved him. He died two years ago, about two months after my mom died. My sisters and I are sure he died of a broken heart, even though he was 93. The day Mom passed the hospice nurses asked how he was doing and he said, “I’m a little down in the dumps.” Incredibly dear.
LikeLike
Dear Lish,
I almost have whiplash from the gut wrenching twist at the end. Very well written.
Shalom,
Rochelle
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Rochelle! There’s something about sites touched by WWII that make me angry and sad and compel me to write about them. I fear that soon that horrid war with all its atrocities will be forgotten or white-washed. Oops! Off my soapbox.
LikeLike
Horrific, touching, just heartbreaking. You’ve touched a terrible subject and treated it with humanity and empathy. Beautifully written, Lish
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a lovely thing to say. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
My pleasure, Lish
LikeLike
What a harsh delusion to be locked into. Poor Lize.
LikeLiked by 1 person
War. Nuf said. Thanks for reading and commenting.
LikeLiked by 1 person