A Journey, Crash and Thereafter

Message from the Sole Survivor of a Tandem Crash

Henry, the sombre local postman, is always to be spotted on his bicycle as he goes about his business in a nonchalant fashion day after day. His dark brows cast a deep shadow on his stubbly cheeks that makes him look older than his juvenile twenty-four. One Sunday, as he rides past a hardware store, the postman catches a momentary reflection on the mirror left outside; that of a blond man with Aryan features wearing a starkly contrasting woeful face and a tattered uniform.

Henry puckers his forehead, clearly disgusted by his handsome look that makes it difficult for him to blend into the busy Berlin crowd of 1940’s. Lost in his thought, he suddenly finds himself crashing to the ground as a German convoy zooms past, blaring harsh siren. As he lies on the road, Henry notices the passport that flew out from his pocket. Now lying three meters away on the pavement, its pages flutter revealingly. As the postman attempts to crawl towards it, a passer-by turns around. The stride of a pair of red heels makes Henry break into a cold sweat.

Henry looks up alarmingly. A young lady with golden brown locks picks up the passport and sits on the curb beside him. She cautiously scrutinizes him for a while before holding it out for him. While snatching the passport away, her icy hands brush against Henry’s making him shudder and curious, all at once. At this she turns away and walks over to his bicycle. Henry watches her gather the scattered mails and shove them inside his postbag. He limps forward and mumbles his gratitude. For the first time, the young girl offers a solemn smile and bids a silent farewell.

Henry gazes at her graceful walk longingly and then pulls himself together. He sets off on his cycle and pedals through numerous alleys until he reaches a shanty house on the outskirts of the old city. Just as he yells out for Mikhail, four Gestapo officers pop out from nowhere and surround him. The brunette appears on the doorway, washed over in a dark mood; Henry’s parched lips curl into a smirk.

Creative Commons License

Onchitas Blog Contents (Texts, Images, Videos) by Onchita Shadman is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License. Based on work at www.onchitas.wordpress.com.

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