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A New Order of the Phylum
Cód:
491_9781642045789
Excerpt from The Night Watch: “As quiet as mice they hid, during Occupation, during the War... It was all there, in the pamphlet. The Anne Frank House was in the heart of Amsterdam, close to the Westerkerk. This was Titus Koninck’s first time in Europe (after an interminable Spring on a kibbutz outside Tel Aviv, teaching English and calculus in a temp-to-perm position that crapped out after he’d gotten sick with hepatitis) and his last day in Amsterdam, and after all the drugs he’d ingested in all the parks, and hashish-and-coffee shops with stoned clientele and even more stoned waitresses, and storefront window whores who took American Express and who still made him wear a condom, after all that Titus had to get to the Anne Frank House, his flight left tomorrow morning, he’d promised aunt Saskia…even a secularized Yom Kippur Jew had to see the Anne Frank House, she’d told him repeatedly when he visited her in hospital… My Aunt Rosa was her age, too, she told him, you have to promise me you’ll make the pilgrimage. And he promised her, not that she’d be alive when he got back, but still, he had promised, and he hurt all over, especially in his abdomen, felt stabbing pains in what had to be his kidneys. Titus remembered an uncle in Astoria, on the coast, across the Columbia from Washington, an uncle with kidneystones who got all sorts of goodies as compensation, even synthetic heroin. Uncle Jacob. Must call him up. He wished he could forget his aunt Saskia going on and on about how Anne Frank wrote in her diary of plastering bare walls of the room she had to share with cranky old dentist Fritz Pfeffer, plastering bare walls with pictures of stars of silver screen, photos of family. And his aunt always got really good and pissed off when he called Anne Frank a poster child, and told him to show some respect for a fifteen-year-old who died of typhus in Bergen-Belsen. —March of 1945, he always added. The
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