Midnight

By Fadhil Al Azzawi
Translated by Zeina Issa

Obscure screams passed through the door’s key hole. Shadows of soldiers with rifles on an olive coloured
wall. At midnight the guard came, he called out a few names. They shivered with fear. He said “Come”.

The young man was thinking of his mother “Where are my shoes?”
The policeman said “No shoes, hurry up”. They left. The voices of the night finally fizzled. Then we heard
ten bullets in the darkness. That’s when I silently got up and wore his shoes, for memory’s sake.