A Cruel Deception
Patricia Harrington


“You like to dance?” Heinrich asked. His blue eyes raked over Sarah, his smile suggestive. She blushed in return, hesitating. But then with a firm nod, stepped closer.  One dance.  One night of fun. What would be the harm?

Sarah slid her fingers down the leather strap across Heinrich’s chest and then to his holstered gun.  He excited her and she let him lead her onto the dance floor.  They moved slowly to the music, their bodies touching, promising.  And she yielded to him and her desire.

In the morning, Sarah dressed quickly. She glanced in the dressing table mirror at Heinrich.  He lay naked in the bed, aroused, tempting her to come back.

Sarah looked away. “I have to leave. I must open the store.”

Heinrich shrugged, stretched and then rose.  As he dressed, he said, “I will take you.”

In the car, Sarah touched Heinrich’s arm as he drove. “You're going the wrong way.”

“No, it’s the right one.”  He sped up, and soon turned into the entrance of a rail yard.  He turned off the motor.  “Get out.”

Sarah stared at the train on the tracks, loaded with railcars stacked with men and women, even children.  She saw family friends, too. Nazi guards herded more onto the crowded railcars.

Heinrich didn’t look at Sarah, but said, “It was a lovely night.  One you’ll remember, I’m sure.”

He signaled to a uniformed guard and then turned to Sarah.

“The train for Dachau is leaving.  You must not miss it.”


First published: November, 2009
comments to the writer: doorknobsandbodypaint@gmail.com