It was dark. It was cold, the room was stuffed with people. The smells of sweat, fear, agony, despair. The colors of blood, tears. The sounds of sneezing, screaming, breathing… It seems like there had never truly been silence in Auschwitz. Every second of the day a soul was scrambling for it’s life. It had felt as if the stomachs of hundreds of Jews had learned to devour food slower. As if their bodies had learnt to live off of nothing. It wasn’t a room filled with people, it was a sick hole stuffed with skin, bones, and hopeless eyes who were only hoping to catch a glimpse of tomorrow. In this gray sea of despair sat a woman in the corner. Her name was Adja.

Not that it mattered, in this hole names were lost and numbers were given. The sickening feeling of a human being stripped of a name and injected with ink that had formed into symbols on their arms. A life long fetter. What sat the Adja apart? It was the silence, where every one heard noise, she heard silence. She had been stripped naked in the face of a slow death. Her life, her voice, her pride, her family, even the smallest shards of hope that she had left.. The only thing that had been left to her is a book. An artifact that spoke in silence. The Shoulder Shrug. This was a forbidden book, if she was ever found with it, her death would come much quicker. She had even considered shoving this book into a Nazi’s face, just to end her agony. Yet, she couldn't do it. There had been too much meaning locked into that book. It was her husband's favorite. A month before the German troops had come marching through Poland she married. Their Union did not last long. Their vows were soon chartered, when he had left to fight in despairful hopes of saving his country and his love. This book had been all that she had left. So she kept it close, much like her heart, she kept it hidden. 

In the other corner of the room however, there sat a young man. His cheekbones sticking out, his hands were bleeding with hours of hard work behind them. He didn’t seem to notice. He reached for his pocket…

Nex to him sat a man who’s youth had passed. He, like everybody at the camp, was filled with sorrow, but had no strength left to utter words. The people at Auschwitz were fed rabbit ratios. The little food that they had been given, was not nearly enough to fill their hungry voids. No human could survive for a long time of what they were given. To them, bread was equivalent to gold. Any little crumbs that could be found were gemstones, each precious and beautiful in their own way. 

Out of the pocket of the young man came an inch of bread. He had summoned the strength to lift himself up off the ground. The strength had been driven by one single desire, the desire to commit a good deed. He managed 

to align his skeleton feed in two twisted steps. He had no vision of where he was headed, but did it truly matter? For tomorrow would be the same as yesterday. At the end of his tedious 5 second journey, the young man crouched down next tot the heavy breathing elderly man. Who had little time left as it is, but with the conditions he had been exposed to his clock started ticking faster. 

“Sir, “ the young man woke the elder.

It had been quite the picture for Adja to observe. A young man offering bread to an older man, hoping to make a difference, yet knowing that neither of them are making it out of here. Perhaps days ago, there would have been a fight for that bread, but not today. Today, the room was filled with silence and dying hopes of people who had suffered for months, now only hoping to get a glimpse at the sun one more time before their final passing. 

Adja watched, as she clung to the book hoping that if she held it tight enough the pages would suck her in whole and she would be transported out of this world. Wishing that the ink will carry her away and wash the wounds away. Swaying, the young man had now noticed Adja. As he trembled and set out on his 5 second journey back to his place, his trajectory changed. 

The man had summoned the strength to turn around and walk further. Stepping over the others that were left to slowly suffocate to death in the dark room filled with smells of sweat, blood, tears and death looking over it, choosing who to take next. He had walked as if the path was clear. As he had seen no obstacle, as if there hadn't been dead bodies that were so difficult to walk over. As he approached, Adja had seen something she had forgotten existed. In his eyes she saw a glimpse of life. 

Much like her own eyes, his, also had life left in them. His eyes had a storm in them. The blue colored eyes reminded Adja of the sky. The beautiful blue that she saw in her youth, the blue that let her breath, the blue that had now been replaced with gray. She couldn’t tear her own glance away from them. She couldn’t help but steer. No words were needed. Their dialogue had already been spoken. Their faith had already been determined. 

The man had finally, with much effort completed his journey, and sunk to the ground next to Adja. He had asked if he could sit, but Adja knew better than to waste strength on words, so she simply nodded. 

Having promoted himself against the wall the young man and Adja sat, in the corner of the dark room, no words spilled, yet everything was spoken. An hour must have passed, for Adja was getting tired of sitting. A human on the verge finds little solidity to sit. Adja had been nodding off into minutes of sleep hoping for an escape. The man however sat keeping a faithful watch on the people and the guards. Noticing Adja shuffle the man had moved 

closer and offered her his shoulder. Adja’s strength had left her and her guard was letting down. She maintained a stronger fausaud, but after much dispute the man helped her lay down and for the first time in a very long time Adja slept with the book escaping from her hands. She slept with a man keeping a faithful watch over her. His shoulder felt better than a pillow, and much softer than the dirty flood she had gotten used to.  

A few hours had passed, since the two characters sat in their corner of a dark, cold room, with nothing but each other left by their sides. As Adja woke in a sudden manner from having seen yet another nightmare, the man comforted her. She wasn’t used to the kind words. She had forgotten human warmth, and ran away from human touch. Yet for once in her life, when she could no longer run, she uttered one single strand of words. 

“Your eyes look like the sky I used to know”.