Raz had hoped the beauty of the old city would calm her friend and make the journey, Wira’s first since her father’s funeral, more pleasurable. But from the moment they’d stepped onto the sidewalk, Wira tightened her grip on Raz’s arm and the pressure hadn’t let up.
Near Tlomackie Synagogue, Elwira spotted a figure moving toward them, a man in a uniform and brown cap. She pushed herself against Raz, nearly bumping into a group of nurses in white and blue capes as they rushed into a hospital. When the man came closer, she relaxed her grip. “A chimney sweep,” she said. “Such a sad little broom.”
“What did you think it was?” Raz asked. “A gun?”
By the time they crossed Ujazdowskie Avenue, Elwira pointed to the trees in the small park at the corner of Matejki Street. “It’s the greenness, Raz. Everywhere. I can’t believe this is spring. I’ve missed so many. Look at that old woman wheeling a baby carriage. She resembles my grandmother.”