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PK, to let you know how well that was written I happened to be home on 9-11-2001 and watch shortly after the first tower was hit and the networks were still speculating that it was a small plane that hit the building. After the first tower fell the pictures of monochromatic dust covered men and women looking more like animated statues emerged from the cloud of dust and debris filled the screen.
Memories fade 13 years later. Your writing brought them back. THAT is powerful writing...
Tree
Memories fade 13 years later. Your writing brought them back. THAT is powerful writing...
Tree
messaline
Crucified Amazon
I've read somewhere that during a earthquake, the first reflex was to make love !
Well done, Pkin !
P
Pia
Guest
Oooh Messa! Almost a plot spoiler....or is it? Hmmmm....we'll see soonI've read somewhere that during a earthquake, the first reflex was to make love !
Well done, Pkin !
P
Pia
Guest
I just got caught up here and Im glad I did. PK that last chapter was amazing! What a powerful image it invokes. You really made it seem so real!
Ooooh wheeee! Thanks!
P
Pia
Guest
It was after midnight when Gisela stirred, opening her eyes slowly and pushing the tangle of her copper hair from her eyes. The tip of her nose was almost touching Edith’s; their syncopated breathing quietly calm. She worked a hand free of the warm blankets heaped over their naked bodies and, a tear wetting the curve of her cheek, stroked back Edith’s dark curls, tracing the line of her ear.
“How long have we....?”
“Shh.... shh Edith... Shhh...”
Without a word more, Gisela’s lips parted, sought out the nape of Edith’s neck, and embraced the lovely curves of her face. Slowly kissing. Slowly moving until their two mouths met, their tongues discovering each other, slipping over smoothly-sharp teeth, a silent, secret dance.
Then hands and fingers pulling sheets away, reaching and stroking. Bodies arching, closing, parting.
“How long have we....?”
“Shh.... shh Edith... Shhh...”
Without a word more, Gisela’s lips parted, sought out the nape of Edith’s neck, and embraced the lovely curves of her face. Slowly kissing. Slowly moving until their two mouths met, their tongues discovering each other, slipping over smoothly-sharp teeth, a silent, secret dance.
Then hands and fingers pulling sheets away, reaching and stroking. Bodies arching, closing, parting.
P
Pia
Guest
I once adored a Judith - she was head girl ... I used to gaze at her... She had such a beautiful face,,, such long straight dark hair pulled back over her utterly lovely ears by a band,,,, the sweetest tilt of a nose..,, and the swell of her breasts through her school dress... Why oh why didnt i just tell her?
P
Pia
Guest
I've just re-read this and unusually i really really like it.... There's one word i'd change but it feels so nice to me
P
Pia
Guest
Monday. Back at the factory. Edith silent at the filing cabinet, pulling out folders of bills and invoices. Glancing over her shoulder, her lips tightening. Gisela at her desk, fingers quickly dancing over the keyboard, her left hand turning pages of notes. Her eyes fixed on her work. A clock ticking, echoing and filling the space of the office.
“So...so we can’t pretend it didn’t happen Gisela... It did, you know it did”
“Edith. I like you, but whatever happened last night happened because of the raid. We were both frightened. I... I... I am not what you think..”
“Gisela, we kissed! You can’t pretend that noth...”
The main office door swung open. Dr. Prüfer’s head edged around the frame.
“Ladies. I hope you are both alright. It was bad last night. Very very bad. But I think it must have been a mistake. They want to bomb Jena not us you know. Anyway, good you are safe. I was worried. Coffee?”
Edith stared hard at Gisela. Took a deep breath, lay the folder down on the cabinet and clicked over the parquet to the kettle.
Winter slowly, inexorably, faded into spring. The days of snow gave way to showers and nights began to retreat. The raids seemed to have faded away too. The sirens still sounded and they would hurry to the shelter, but no bombs fell. The factory began to struggle for supplies. Orders were still coming in; there seemed to be no shortage of demand for their new models, even if it was becoming more obvious every day that the end was coming nearer. The radio news tried to keep morale high, but as the grip of the Americans and the Russians became ever tighter, stories of victories turned to stories of heroics, turned to sentimental music. The two girls walked together back to the city, the evening sun glowed green through the linden buds, coats were discarded, scarves left behind.
April. The city full of soldiers. Trains shunting through the station ruins. Going north to Berlin. Tired boys with sunken eyes and hopelessness in their smiles and weary waves. Then the streets fell silent. Tuesday 10th. A convoy of green jeeps rolling into the Fischmarkt. Rows of silent witnesses as the flag on the Rathaus came fluttering down and the Stars and Stripes rattled up the flagpole, the east wind smearing the blue sky with milky clouds.
At Topf & Söhne only the clients seemed to have changed. American officers had become a daily presence in the offices, chatting with the brothers and discussing a new project with Dr. Prüfer. Gisela and Edith took turns at brewing up coffee and fetching biscuits. The Major, he could not have been more than twenty-five, seemed to make a habit of arriving early, sitting on the desk, swinging his legs and smiling shyly at the two office girls.
“So, are you going to speak to us or just stare every day?” Gisela had decided it was time to break the ice.
“Ladies, apologies. Major Ganz, my pleasure to meet you both”
“Ganz? Are you German? I thought you were all Americans?”
“Rudy Ganz from the fine State of Iowa. My grandfather was German. And now I’m being paid to visit the old country! And now we’re on speaking terms, how about showing me around your city?”
Edith looked at Gisela and smiled.
“He’s all yours I think, Gisela....”
The tables were already out under the trees. The square crowded with GIs and officers enjoying the unexpectedly warm early evenings. Beer and wine glasses clinking; joking and laughter and young girls throwing off the sadness that had enveloped them, making an exchange for an American knee. In the back-streets old women picking through rubbish bins for whatever scraps they could find to eat or to sell.
Rudy unbuckled his uniform, laying his cap on the bedside table. Gisela was waiting. Her white body draped over the sheets, her red hair untied and spread wide over the pillows, wide as her legs.
He slid over her, his lips tracing outline, his scent filling her senses. It had been so long. He had been gone so long. The feel of him becoming firm, his hand opening her, sliding inside. She was burning, dissolving. Her eyes closed, her fingers curling around the cotton covers, reaching for the bed-posts, wrapping tight. Feeling the rhythm as his body pushed hard into her, his broad chest supported on strong arms, his face lifted back. Their minds lost in each other and in no-one, in this dingy little room and in a wide-open wheat-filled plain far, far away. Then collapsing down onto her and rolling away. Lighting a cigarette. Blowing smoke into the last golden rays of the sun as they filtered through the filter of the dust-streaked window.
This became their routine. Unspeaking, but understanding. Each giving what each needed. Every night. Every night after their drink in the square. High in the little flat in Kaufmännerstraße. And every day back in the office, sharing a little smile with Edith. Every day the same.
The 8th May. The end. In far away Berlin. Hitler and his coterie dead. But at Topf & Söhne the day passed unremarked. Business was, it seemed, business. The brothers seemed, sometimes, distracted, nervous, but Dr. Prüfer was always busy. He talked about fresh starts, about clearing out the old records. Edith and Gisela worked through the files, pulling some for the fire, moving others into new binders. Turning the pages, realising how good the war had been for their products. They had gone everywhere it seemed, but especially to the Generalgouvernement. And now the Americans were the clients. That was business. It did seem though that the Dr. was effectively running the show. Herr Ludwig and Herr Ernst-Wolfgang seemed to spend longer and longer in isolation, locked away in their rooms.
And then it happened. May 30th. A hot early summer day, the windows of the office wide open, the breeze lifting the pages of the wall calendar. A roar outside of a military car and outriders with their white helmets. The click of officers’ boots across the floor. The Dr. called from a meeting. Raised voices, instructions and orders. Doors opening and, past the two girls, the soldiers marching him, handcuffed, from the building. Sudden silence. The cars drawing away. And then a shot. Gisela rushed through the mahogany door in panic. Stretched out, face down over his desk, his glasses strangely twisted around his nose, pulled off one ear. A pool of blood soaking into the blotter. Herr Ludwig.
Gisela sat with her legs curled up, an old nightgown over her shoulder. Sucking on a cigarette.
“Why? Why did he do it Rudy? You must know what’s going on?”
“I...I...can’t tell you... come on, kiss me sweetness...”
“I have to know! I found him! Why did he do it? The war’s over, the business is still running. Why?”
“It’s sensitive. I...I’m not sure... I...”
“Tell me Rudy! You know! I know you do! I thought you loved me or something! I need to know!”
“Gisela, it’s bad. Do you know what you make at your factory?”
“Yes, of course. We make industrial ovens. So what?”
“That’t right. Ovens. And do you know where they were used and why you were doing such good business? I’ve been there Gisela. I’ve seen it...”
“Seen what?”
“Near Weimar. You sold a lot there didn’t you? A place called Buchenwald. A camp. They used your ovens to burn people Gisela. Thousands and thousands of people. People your Nazis starved. I’ve seen them Gisela. And Buchenwald is just one of your camps...”
“My camps? My Nazis? What are you saying? I’m not a Nazi. You know that! What are you saying!”
He pulled her close. She sobbed and sobbed. Her fists hit out at his back, her hair smothering them both. Howling. Then subsiding to snuffled tears as her hands slowed and they hugged close, their bodies squeezing each other, trying somehow to find that shared space where they could be together again.
For ten days it seemed the world had been turned upside down. But then the Dr. was back and smiling. The other brother had vanished. Business about transferring the registration of the company apparently. Dr. Prüfer took over the directors office and was busy again on the new contract. The two girls didn’t know what to think.
“So ladies, coffee time I think, eh? And some of those nice American biscuits maybe...”
“ Dr. Prüfer, sir, can I ask you a question...?” Gisela looked up nervously from the kettle...
“Of course, what is it?”
“Well, I...we...we have heard stories about the camps, about our furnaces... frightening stories... Are...are they true?”
“Girls. Girls... You shouldn’t worry your pretty little selves about things like that. Of course we sold our furnaces to the Reich. They needed them. To prevent sickness, for hygene. Yes, there are...were camps... Internal enemies.... Jews.... Homosexuals.... Gypsies... Bad people... and...well, they were able to work there for the country.... to.... to redeem themselves.... But...in big camps with people like that, you get diseases... It was important to...to dispose... to keep the places clean.... You understand, don’t you... Now no more of that. It’s all over now and we are in business with the Americans. And we’ll be in business with the Russians too when they come...”
Edith shuddered.
“The Russians?”
“Yes, Gisela... I may call you that mightn’t I? Yes, we are in the Russian zone. Here and the whole of Thuringia. The Americans will be going and the Russians will be coming. We will soon be doing business with the Russians. So you better learn how to make tea as well as coffee!”
“The Russians? But I have heard terrible things... It...will it be safe? I... I’m afraid...a little bit... I mean Dr. Prüfer sir, shouldn’t we leave too?
“Leave? No... no...no need for that. We will be needed by the Russians just as much as by the Americans. Just you wait and see.”
“You’re going! Your leaving! And you never ever told me! You just bought drinks and screwed me every night and you knew all along you were going! You...!!!”
“Hey...hey Gisela... Calm down... Stop it... Stop your crying...”
“You bastard! I thought you were going to be there forever for me! I thought you’d marry me and be my soldier hero! You never said! You knew all along you were leaving! Take me with you! Take me!!!!”
“Gisela... it was great...”
“WAS!!! WAS!!! What do you mean was!!!?”
“Gisela, I mean... I mean it’s great... being with you is wonderful... It’s what I needed... I think it’s what you needed... We were both lost and lonely. It’s been a long business this war. You have no idea what I’ve been through...”
“And what about me! You’ve not had to live here with bombs falling all the time! What do you mean?”
“Well... Gisela I am going. We’re all going. And soon I’ll be going home to the USA and...”
“So take me! Take me with you!”
“Gisela... it’s not so simple...you see...you see... I’m married...”
She howled like a wild animal caught in a trap. Her screams reverberated round the walls. She tore at her hair, pummelled him with her fists, slapped him, scratched him.
“Get out! Get out now you bastard! I thought you cared! I thought you loved me!”
“Gisela...Gisela...stop it... I...”
“GET OUT NOW!”
She pushed him spinning towards the door, shoving him into the half-light of the corridor. Slamming the door shut and collapsing, heaving and sobbing onto the mattress.
“So...so we can’t pretend it didn’t happen Gisela... It did, you know it did”
“Edith. I like you, but whatever happened last night happened because of the raid. We were both frightened. I... I... I am not what you think..”
“Gisela, we kissed! You can’t pretend that noth...”
The main office door swung open. Dr. Prüfer’s head edged around the frame.
“Ladies. I hope you are both alright. It was bad last night. Very very bad. But I think it must have been a mistake. They want to bomb Jena not us you know. Anyway, good you are safe. I was worried. Coffee?”
Edith stared hard at Gisela. Took a deep breath, lay the folder down on the cabinet and clicked over the parquet to the kettle.
Winter slowly, inexorably, faded into spring. The days of snow gave way to showers and nights began to retreat. The raids seemed to have faded away too. The sirens still sounded and they would hurry to the shelter, but no bombs fell. The factory began to struggle for supplies. Orders were still coming in; there seemed to be no shortage of demand for their new models, even if it was becoming more obvious every day that the end was coming nearer. The radio news tried to keep morale high, but as the grip of the Americans and the Russians became ever tighter, stories of victories turned to stories of heroics, turned to sentimental music. The two girls walked together back to the city, the evening sun glowed green through the linden buds, coats were discarded, scarves left behind.
April. The city full of soldiers. Trains shunting through the station ruins. Going north to Berlin. Tired boys with sunken eyes and hopelessness in their smiles and weary waves. Then the streets fell silent. Tuesday 10th. A convoy of green jeeps rolling into the Fischmarkt. Rows of silent witnesses as the flag on the Rathaus came fluttering down and the Stars and Stripes rattled up the flagpole, the east wind smearing the blue sky with milky clouds.
At Topf & Söhne only the clients seemed to have changed. American officers had become a daily presence in the offices, chatting with the brothers and discussing a new project with Dr. Prüfer. Gisela and Edith took turns at brewing up coffee and fetching biscuits. The Major, he could not have been more than twenty-five, seemed to make a habit of arriving early, sitting on the desk, swinging his legs and smiling shyly at the two office girls.
“So, are you going to speak to us or just stare every day?” Gisela had decided it was time to break the ice.
“Ladies, apologies. Major Ganz, my pleasure to meet you both”
“Ganz? Are you German? I thought you were all Americans?”
“Rudy Ganz from the fine State of Iowa. My grandfather was German. And now I’m being paid to visit the old country! And now we’re on speaking terms, how about showing me around your city?”
Edith looked at Gisela and smiled.
“He’s all yours I think, Gisela....”
Chapter 4
The tables were already out under the trees. The square crowded with GIs and officers enjoying the unexpectedly warm early evenings. Beer and wine glasses clinking; joking and laughter and young girls throwing off the sadness that had enveloped them, making an exchange for an American knee. In the back-streets old women picking through rubbish bins for whatever scraps they could find to eat or to sell.
Rudy unbuckled his uniform, laying his cap on the bedside table. Gisela was waiting. Her white body draped over the sheets, her red hair untied and spread wide over the pillows, wide as her legs.
He slid over her, his lips tracing outline, his scent filling her senses. It had been so long. He had been gone so long. The feel of him becoming firm, his hand opening her, sliding inside. She was burning, dissolving. Her eyes closed, her fingers curling around the cotton covers, reaching for the bed-posts, wrapping tight. Feeling the rhythm as his body pushed hard into her, his broad chest supported on strong arms, his face lifted back. Their minds lost in each other and in no-one, in this dingy little room and in a wide-open wheat-filled plain far, far away. Then collapsing down onto her and rolling away. Lighting a cigarette. Blowing smoke into the last golden rays of the sun as they filtered through the filter of the dust-streaked window.
This became their routine. Unspeaking, but understanding. Each giving what each needed. Every night. Every night after their drink in the square. High in the little flat in Kaufmännerstraße. And every day back in the office, sharing a little smile with Edith. Every day the same.
The 8th May. The end. In far away Berlin. Hitler and his coterie dead. But at Topf & Söhne the day passed unremarked. Business was, it seemed, business. The brothers seemed, sometimes, distracted, nervous, but Dr. Prüfer was always busy. He talked about fresh starts, about clearing out the old records. Edith and Gisela worked through the files, pulling some for the fire, moving others into new binders. Turning the pages, realising how good the war had been for their products. They had gone everywhere it seemed, but especially to the Generalgouvernement. And now the Americans were the clients. That was business. It did seem though that the Dr. was effectively running the show. Herr Ludwig and Herr Ernst-Wolfgang seemed to spend longer and longer in isolation, locked away in their rooms.
And then it happened. May 30th. A hot early summer day, the windows of the office wide open, the breeze lifting the pages of the wall calendar. A roar outside of a military car and outriders with their white helmets. The click of officers’ boots across the floor. The Dr. called from a meeting. Raised voices, instructions and orders. Doors opening and, past the two girls, the soldiers marching him, handcuffed, from the building. Sudden silence. The cars drawing away. And then a shot. Gisela rushed through the mahogany door in panic. Stretched out, face down over his desk, his glasses strangely twisted around his nose, pulled off one ear. A pool of blood soaking into the blotter. Herr Ludwig.
Gisela sat with her legs curled up, an old nightgown over her shoulder. Sucking on a cigarette.
“Why? Why did he do it Rudy? You must know what’s going on?”
“I...I...can’t tell you... come on, kiss me sweetness...”
“I have to know! I found him! Why did he do it? The war’s over, the business is still running. Why?”
“It’s sensitive. I...I’m not sure... I...”
“Tell me Rudy! You know! I know you do! I thought you loved me or something! I need to know!”
“Gisela, it’s bad. Do you know what you make at your factory?”
“Yes, of course. We make industrial ovens. So what?”
“That’t right. Ovens. And do you know where they were used and why you were doing such good business? I’ve been there Gisela. I’ve seen it...”
“Seen what?”
“Near Weimar. You sold a lot there didn’t you? A place called Buchenwald. A camp. They used your ovens to burn people Gisela. Thousands and thousands of people. People your Nazis starved. I’ve seen them Gisela. And Buchenwald is just one of your camps...”
“My camps? My Nazis? What are you saying? I’m not a Nazi. You know that! What are you saying!”
He pulled her close. She sobbed and sobbed. Her fists hit out at his back, her hair smothering them both. Howling. Then subsiding to snuffled tears as her hands slowed and they hugged close, their bodies squeezing each other, trying somehow to find that shared space where they could be together again.
For ten days it seemed the world had been turned upside down. But then the Dr. was back and smiling. The other brother had vanished. Business about transferring the registration of the company apparently. Dr. Prüfer took over the directors office and was busy again on the new contract. The two girls didn’t know what to think.
“So ladies, coffee time I think, eh? And some of those nice American biscuits maybe...”
“ Dr. Prüfer, sir, can I ask you a question...?” Gisela looked up nervously from the kettle...
“Of course, what is it?”
“Well, I...we...we have heard stories about the camps, about our furnaces... frightening stories... Are...are they true?”
“Girls. Girls... You shouldn’t worry your pretty little selves about things like that. Of course we sold our furnaces to the Reich. They needed them. To prevent sickness, for hygene. Yes, there are...were camps... Internal enemies.... Jews.... Homosexuals.... Gypsies... Bad people... and...well, they were able to work there for the country.... to.... to redeem themselves.... But...in big camps with people like that, you get diseases... It was important to...to dispose... to keep the places clean.... You understand, don’t you... Now no more of that. It’s all over now and we are in business with the Americans. And we’ll be in business with the Russians too when they come...”
Edith shuddered.
“The Russians?”
“Yes, Gisela... I may call you that mightn’t I? Yes, we are in the Russian zone. Here and the whole of Thuringia. The Americans will be going and the Russians will be coming. We will soon be doing business with the Russians. So you better learn how to make tea as well as coffee!”
“The Russians? But I have heard terrible things... It...will it be safe? I... I’m afraid...a little bit... I mean Dr. Prüfer sir, shouldn’t we leave too?
“Leave? No... no...no need for that. We will be needed by the Russians just as much as by the Americans. Just you wait and see.”
“You’re going! Your leaving! And you never ever told me! You just bought drinks and screwed me every night and you knew all along you were going! You...!!!”
“Hey...hey Gisela... Calm down... Stop it... Stop your crying...”
“You bastard! I thought you were going to be there forever for me! I thought you’d marry me and be my soldier hero! You never said! You knew all along you were leaving! Take me with you! Take me!!!!”
“Gisela... it was great...”
“WAS!!! WAS!!! What do you mean was!!!?”
“Gisela, I mean... I mean it’s great... being with you is wonderful... It’s what I needed... I think it’s what you needed... We were both lost and lonely. It’s been a long business this war. You have no idea what I’ve been through...”
“And what about me! You’ve not had to live here with bombs falling all the time! What do you mean?”
“Well... Gisela I am going. We’re all going. And soon I’ll be going home to the USA and...”
“So take me! Take me with you!”
“Gisela... it’s not so simple...you see...you see... I’m married...”
She howled like a wild animal caught in a trap. Her screams reverberated round the walls. She tore at her hair, pummelled him with her fists, slapped him, scratched him.
“Get out! Get out now you bastard! I thought you cared! I thought you loved me!”
“Gisela...Gisela...stop it... I...”
“GET OUT NOW!”
She pushed him spinning towards the door, shoving him into the half-light of the corridor. Slamming the door shut and collapsing, heaving and sobbing onto the mattress.
RacingRodent
Consul
That was a subtle but still forceful way to deal with things. Superb writing PK
...whoa...
Tree
Tree
P
Pia
Guest
is "whoa" good or bad or something else?...whoa...
Tree
PS - two(ish) more chapters to go in this one... I guess you can guess that the Russians are coming to town... which might be bad news for our heroines... oh dear!
...sad twist in the story... not seen coming but that was the idea...
T
T
P
Pia
Guest
Chapter Five
Gisela ran and ran. The rain soaked her hair, streaming red strands flying over her face. Tears and raindrops falling to the ground. Through the night-dark streets of the city, her feet echoing on the cobbles and resounding from wall to wall. Along Meienbergstraße, clattering round the corner into Futterstraße. Running and running almost to the end of the street. The house on the left - banging on the door. Gasping for breath. Wet hands on the knocker. Banging.
“Come on, come on!”
Eventually the door pulled ajar, the dim yellow light reflecting back from the puddles lying in the street. A swoosh from a passing jeep throwing water over Gisela’s legs.
“Is she in? Is she? I have to see her!”
“Edith, yes... Go on. Top floor, flat 9. But you know that don’t you... Hey, no need to push!”
Leaping up the rude wooden staircase, the treads uneven and worn with age. Spinning round the half-landings. Pushing her hair out of her eyes, out of her tears.
Facing the door. Trying to control her breath. Water dripping and gathering at her feet.
Wiping her face, wiping the soaking clothes clinging to her breasts.
Then a tap on the door. And a wait that seemed to last an eternity.
Last edited by a moderator:
P
Pia
Guest
it didn't really
just a moment or two I think!