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He felt a gnawing sensation. He knew it was hunger. Nothing in his mouth since morning except for those slops, the slops from the Judenrat kitchen, a watery soup that was almost free, just fifty…
Once there was a stroke of misfortune.
The day it happened, Mother couldn’t stop cursing this wretched life. Something occurred that almost caused Father to hang himself out of pure shame. After that…
Not here in our London Ghetto the gates and gaberdines of the olden Ghetto of the Eternal City; yet no lack of signs external by which one may know it, and those who dwell therein. Its narrow…