Przemyslaw Sikorski

Dear Roberto

They took us from the prison two days ago. In the broad light. Exhausted, filthy and hungry. They pushed us outside the gate. The crowd was screaming! Faggots! Queers! Fucking poofters! Poofs! Benders! Nancy boys! The crowd was screaming and throwing stones at us. Throwing whatever they had prepared for scums like us. Something soft hit my face. I was not sure what was that. I was adamant it stunk like what hell would smell like, tough. Like a human shit wrapped in the tissue paper. “We are not worthy”, they said. Not worthy to live. We were an abomination which needs to be eliminated from the new society. Society in which, there was no place for us.