Clearly, I see it. I was just about to leave when I found her kneeling there. A mountain range of rubble was written, designed, erected around her. She was clucthing at a book.

That was when the world wasn't so big and I could see everywhere. It was when my father was a hero and not a human.

How about a kiss, Saumensch?

It was a Monday and they walked on a tightrope to the sun.

The best word shakers were the ones who understood the true power of words. They were the ones who could climb the highest.

The scrawled words of practice stood magnificently on the wall by the stairs, jagged and childlike and sweet. They looked on as both the hidden Jew and the girl slept, hand to shoulder. They breathed. German and Jewish lungs.

I'm sorry. I shouldn't be asking such things...' She let the sentence die its own death