Topic > The Story of the Vase - 540

Kept in that sunny corner, it sits there, silent, silent. Looking at everything that is happening around. Every person who walks past the lobby, the smiles, the lines of tension on their foreheads, the new people's trembling, trembling hands, the throbbing nerves in their necks, their throats heaving as they swallow their fear. Observe everything. It is filled every day, with a little water and a bouquet of fresh flowers, by the lady who wears dark-rimmed elf glasses, with her hair tied in a tight bun and wears fresh, well-ironed work clothes, day after day . The one who stands in front of the large wooden desk, right in front of the vase, with the words WELCOME written in large gold letters, either smiles at the people who pass by or can be heard chatting cordially on the phone. Takes the clean vase every day. The stagnant water that becomes slimy during the day is thrown away and washed carefully to eliminate any slimy residues from the previous day's flowers. And then you fill the tap with fresh water and put another bouquet of new flowers. It is a glass vase, with thick, long glass grooves molded into its surface. Its color is burnished pink in the lower part which fades and blends with the normal transparency as you proceed upwards. And then he has a dark past. The glass it is made of is smeared with the blood of a prisoner of war. The bloody glass was part of the single light bulb that hung above that man's head. He was sitting blindfolded on a crooked wooden chair and his hands were tightly tied behind him. her legs were also tied at the ankles. Every visible part of his face was smeared with faint black streaks of grease and grime. There were scratches and cuts on his neck and hands, which were not very old, but the blood had flowed a short distance and dried halfway. His head was lowered due to tiredness and heavy breathing. It was a small dark room, more like a makeshift room in the middle of the forest, which was under attack. There were no windows and there was only a small entrance. A burly man had entered the bunk about two hours after the prisoner's arrival.