aus-der-traum:

It all seemed normal at first when Wilhelm stood in front of her door again as if he had never left, only he was a lot skinnier and dark around the eyes and the grey uniform he had left in two summers ago was much brighter now, the wool worn down paper thin and there were small holes in the fabric where the insignia used to be, but something was off about his wide smile, something his wife could not quite grasp until one day it occurred to her that his smile crept up only to his cheeks and while the lower half of his face was amused by every little anecdote his eyes were mucky green pebbles with no joy in them, not even sadness, they were simply dead like the eyes of a fish on the butcher’s table.

They did not talk about the war, only occasionally the topic was grazed like when she asked if he knew what had happened to the neighbour’s son – “no” – and if he ever got that Christmas letter – “no” – and if the Russians had been good to him – “no”.

Sometimes he woke her up at night, because in his sleep he cried like she had never heard him cry, a high-pitched wailing like a wounded animal, but if she reached out to touch and calm him he flinched and when she woke him up asking if he had had a bad dream he only shrugged and said he could not remember.

@reichblr-ficathon