Off the tour path, this field at the extreme north-west boundary of Birkenau, contains the remains of countless innocent souls, guilty of the crime of existing in the wrong place at the wrong time, merely being, just that... living. I absentmindedly kicked at something in the ground. It turned out to be a bone, a cervical vertebra, one of the few things I could not bring myself to photograph. I covered it quickly, lest I cause it more pain, and said a prayer.
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