Dear Stranger,
Werner's response finally arrived.
As Hans opened it, we all stood around that table, waiting anxiously.
He will not be coming home for Christmas—or Hanukkah, in our case (which we won't be celebrating). It was a great relief. Mama practically collapsed when Hans folded it back up in the envelope.
But Hans' expression didn't escape my notice. I know he feels a tad bit disappointed. It is his son after all.
Yet, it's a funny thing, isn't it? Werner fighting for the Führer; Hans fighting for the Jews. It's like an invisible boxing match, except everyone knows who's throwing the punches.
On a different note, I wrote a poem. I'd like to imagine living on a sunny prairie. I suppose this will be one of many. I don't know if it's any good, but here it is anyway:
In this meadow
I only see their shadows
There is no white,
only the sight
of dreary winter
Do you think it's good?
—Etta
YOU ARE READING
The Sound of Silence
Fiksi Sejarah"God had given us a miracle, and I wasn't sure there would be one next." Winter 1942, one of the coldest years in history. Hans Steiner, a man of his late thirties, looks through the iron fence, through the hollow eyes that follow him, and to the as...
