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“Well, as you know already, the story is about Esterka, the daughter of the Jew to whom this house belongs. She was ten years old when he came here, and tall of her age, with black hair and large blue…
I sometimes dream that I’m a prisoner. For days, years. I’m only free at night, for a few hours toward morning. During those hours I can walk around. But I don’t know where to go. All the people I…
Those who had no papers entitling them to live lined up to die. The whole North-west Station was a gigantic waiting-room. It was a long, long wait, but eventually everyone’s turn came. Those who…
No, Anton Wanzl was not good. He lacked love, he lacked heart. He did only what he thought was clever and sensible. He gave no love and asked for none. He never needed any affection, any tenderness…