Dear Stranger,
I heard there will be air raids in München in a few days. We only live on the outskirts, but they say the Allies take no mercy on Germans.
The Steiner's are especially worried because they're checking basements again. Hans said they checked a few years ago, before we came. Apparently, the cellar posts were a bit questionable so they didn't turn it into a bunker. But now, as the desperation mounts, the guards might come around again. None of us know what to do.
After dinner, when I slipped into my itchy bed, I could still hear Hans and Frau Steiner talking. I'll spare you the useless back and forth, but Frau Steiner is really distraught and Hans feels helpless. Somehow he still has not lost his temper. I suppose I'm used to Papa blowing his fuse, which used to be a rare occurrence, but has now become a part of our daily routine.
Speaking of which, Papa isn't like himself at all. He's always bouncing his leg or staring out the window. And mama is always tying knots with her thread. I'm planning to ask them about this secret any moment.
Perhaps now isn't the time. It never is.
—Etta
YOU ARE READING
The Sound of Silence
Historische Romane"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...
