The next day, Eddie, with his head shaved and wearing baggy striped pants and a shirt, walked up to Eric and Borg outside the crematorium. Eddie pointed. “Where is my mother? She’s been taking a shower for a long time. She should be clean by now.”
“I don’t know, boy. Move on,” Borg said.
Eric pointed to the smoke. “Say Auf Wiedersehen. She is smoke by now,” he said, laughing and showing his yellow teeth.
Eddie didn’t understand, but he stared at the strange smoky sky. “The sky is smoking.” He walked on as he twisted his head to continue looking up at the sky. “That is not good.”
“How is that one still alive?” Borg asked.
Eric laughed and shrugged as the sky puffed foul death-smoke. The one thing the Nazis hadn’t counted on was the smell of burning human flesh. The stench seeped over the camp like a foul fog, a constant reminder that souls had been sacrificed.
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