In an orderly manner, they lined up twice that were their most decisive moments: submission of life, and submission to death.
The first time they lined up orderly was behind the small counter where the soldier inspected.
It was Maria’s turn.
“Good afternoon Ma’m. Please take off your clothes and wear this,” the nazi handed her a smock dress, and smiled.
She noticed that the soldier had been surprisingly polite.
As she removed her coat and proceeded to take off her shoes and jewelry, she wondered if she could ever be reunited with her gold watch that her grandmother passed down.
After dressing in her one piece smock, her head was shaven and she wore wooden shoes that she could not walk properly with.
Finally, a number was printed on her arm.
“Get in there you bitch,” the same soldier who had been smiling a moment ago now commanded and scowled disdainfully.
He was smiling a moment ago, the moment when she was human ago.
Now, she was Number 24351.
They lined up a second time in an orderly fashion.
This time, they were lining up behind a shack.
What they were waiting for, no one talked about.
All that mattered was they were in line, they were orderly.
Even while waiting for the gas to suffocate their lungs, they remained orderly, side by side in the room as their vision turned blurry, then completely black.
in response to daily prompt’s Orderly