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And so its pain is unremitting, like an amputated leg
This ash and feathery void chafes at us,
They say two willows were seen in Mazowsze
wearing green prayer shawls also a market stall
in the middle…
Today is Wednesday, February 17, 1943. Exactly twelve weeks have passed since we went into hiding here at Felek’s. Twelve weeks are eighty-four days and, if my arithmetic is correct, 2016 hours. That…
[Leidental’s room. Evening. Leidental. One of his fingers is bandaged.]Leidental:[To himself.] At eight fifteen I felt I cannot any more with myself. I had: regulation misery, pain to top…
Meg:Well—it’s very, very nice to be here tonight, in my house, and I want to propose a toast to Stanley, because it’s his birthday, and he’s lived here for a long while now, and he’s my Stanley now…