Behold, I am living . . . badly, not well, wretchedly, and I consider myself dead. Again and again, I send you a letter, but I do not receive a single letter from you, and I have become without hope toward you. My misfortune is this, that I have been in Moscow, to Poland, travelling for weeks thanks to you, and there was a way out a first, a second, even a fifth time, but they refused to bring me out. In five days, they are bringing me to Nuremberg, in my homeland.
Most of all, I say a prayer every day, praying to the nonsense of this bloodied human race in, and cell which I am staying that you find me and all-.. this is the sixth letter I have written, and except for one, you have not written to me, even about your being well, nor have you come to see me. Having promised me "I'll always come back," you didn't come do that.
The USSR placed the mail aside, picking out the rich violet letter and opened it.
Jet black, metallic ink was imprinted onto the front.
"Metallic ink." He gazed down at the writing of reflecting words with a taped choker on the backside just placed before him, and his heart swelled.
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The rest of this was taken by Wattpad after this books first deletion.
Tis' a prologue, for now.
YOU ARE READING
Russian Doll: Alternate Sequel // ThirdUnion
FanfictionNo one knows who belongs to the Graupel. Knows where Drittes Reich lived before. He came to stay on the tall dark cove. He stayed there alone, no one came to his shack, for The Reich had fled and never came back.
