“We were so worried. Papa heard shots.”
He removed his coat. It was always a surprise, how thin he had become. I suppose we all had. “I’m fine, ma. Don’t worry. I’m always careful.”
“Were you able to get it?” Papa asked him. I could see he was trying to guard his eagerness. To shield himself from disappointment.
He reached into his pocket with a look of triumph and pulled out a muslin-wrapped parcel. “A whole loaf!”
Papa got to his feet, clapping. “Splendid! A feast! I’ll get the knife.”
I knew we should save it, but I said nothing.
Sometimes somethings need to be given in to! Nice!
It would be smart to ration, but sometimes you have to splurge.
A good story that makes me wonder about the sort of people we would become if food were in such desperately short supply.
Rationing is good, yes. But, so is actually eating. Great story.
Nicely written piece. You took me into their sparse world.
I felt like I was in the Warsaw ghetto in the 30s/40s. Well done in transporting me there.
Great dialogue and atmosphere. You could feel the despair in their lives.