WeWriWa—A crime of passion


Welcome back to Weekend Writing Warriors and Snippet Sunday, weekly Sunday hops where writers share 8–10 sentences from a book or WIP. I’m now sharing from Chapter 45, “Imre’s Revenge,” of my hiatused WIP The Strongest Branches of Uprooted Trees. This week’s snippet comes a bit after last week’s.

It’s November 1945, and Imre chose to stay behind in Budapest when his girlfriend Csilla and their friends were smuggled into Italy. Hoping to prove himself a hero, he went to Csilla’s hometown Abony to recover important possessions she hid last year.

Imre fled back to Budapest after a violent fight with the gendarme who took over Csilla’s house. He’s now at a nearby hospital with his mother. X-rays revealed he broke his entire left hand, his dominant hand. The doctor approves of Imre attacking someone to defend his girlfriend’s honor, though his mother is less approving.

Imre has just given more details about the incident and talked about how he can’t wait to start giving Csilla back her belongings as birthday and Chanukah presents when he sees her again.

Rubble-clogged streets of 1945 Budapest, the beautiful Pearl of the Danube a shadow of its former self

The doctor smiled. “This was a crime of passion alright. I suppose you intend to marry this lucky young lady.”

“You’d better, after you’ve possibly killed a man for her,” Mrs. Goldmark said. “You wouldn’t have done such a thing if you didn’t have serious feelings for Csilla.”

“I think I love her,” Imre admitted. “She might be unable to have children, and isn’t so sure she wants any children regardless, but I don’t care about that.”

“Why does she think she can’t have children?” the doctor asked. “Perhaps I can give my expert opinion, at least as far as I can without seeing her in person.”

8 thoughts on “WeWriWa—A crime of passion

  1. This could be quite an impediment both to them and to society’s opinion of them. Women were expected to have/want children during this time. He must love her if he’s willing to overlook such a problem.


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