T he prison walls towered over the public square. Yuri Brenner shuffled beside his donkey down the crowded street in front of the imposing building. Guards patrolling the top of the wall showed little or no interest in the pedestrians below on their way to the outdoor market.
Directly across from the prison were old wooden park benches. Yehudit found an unoccupied spot among the poorest women who gathered there daily to display whatever merchandise they had to sell. She placed her basket of rags on the ground in front of her feet and waited. Few passersby were interested in the wares displayed but some tossed a few coins in their direction out of pity. As the sun rose higher in the sky the long loose-fitting garments worn by the women became uncomfortably warm.
The women occupied themselves with gossip recipes and complaints. “You’re new here” one addressed Yehudit curiously. “What’s your name? Where are you from?”
Yehudit returned her gaze but only giggled without answering the questions. She covered her face with her spread fingers and rocked back and forth humming. “Poor thing” they whispered among themselves before losing interest.
