My daughter marches through the forest. She can’t do it herself, so / she uses my legs, my eyes and my fear.

Then came the day that the decree ordering the deportation of Jewish girls was issued. It was in all the papers and probably also posted all around town.All I know is that we didn’t receive any summons at home. But we knew that all unmarried Jewish girls and young women between the ages of 16 and 30 were to report to the courtyard of the Reform primary school that I had attended as a child.

Hasil knows that they might succumb to the cold and not make it. He prefers not to think about that eventuality and takes them along the forest trail. He’ll risk it. So long as the patrol times haven’t changed, they ought to make it.

It is one of the little tricks we humans play: whenever something is beyond us, we invent a name for it, at the very least, or borrow one from some ancient language, and we feel more secure straight away.

In the not too distant future / I will be old I have / seen it coming

I retrace my steps, barefoot and diligent as a shipwreck

Now, Tony lay on his back in the sick room in L 315, watching a fly on the ceiling. The fly was clearly bored. This was no surprise to Tony. He was bored too.

He looked back at me, he was taking note of the moment in his head. The moment the fairy tale crumbled.

I’m not convinced of anything. I don’t trust my memory, which tells me that the entire village gathered in front of the house that night. They had come to do something bad. I can still see the whole thing. A tribal ritual.