Autumn’s final week was cold and silent on Joshua Street; slow, shivering winds entwined the crisp dead leaves upon the neglected street within a spiraled foretelling of the winter to come. The miniature tornado abandoned its company far above the pockets of trash which covered the street’s body like a blanket—no life was seen in the black starless sky.

The houses on Joshua Street were connected like pieces of an old puzzle no one cared to finish. Each home seemed to have something missing from it yet was strangely similar to the one to its left or right. The unkempt homes were unintentionally designed by its improvident inhabitants to have the same bedraggled features: Dusty unwashed windows, lock after rusted lock upon their front and back doors, a brownish black tint of dirt and neglect upon the wooden, brick or stone exterior walls. And an empty essence within, despite the wandering eyes pressed upon each window hoping for some sign of change.

Pressed upon a dusted attic window were the wandering eyes of a young boy searching ardently for a wish. As he searched he found no stars; only a handful of dead leaves in the cold wind. In the small light brown eyes of the young boy a tear began to form. Reflected patterns of mocha skin and short black hair upon an empty face, were the visions the tear gave away to the eye. But to the heart, it showed an unanswered prayer, an empty stomach and a dying mother.

“Rodolfo!” Came a boisterous man’s voice from behind the young boy in the miniature attic space.

Startled, yet quicker to wipe away his tears, the young boy turned to face the familiar voice he knew as his older stepbrother.

“Yes Alejandro?” asked the young boy with a sniffle.

“What are you doing here alone in the attic? And were you just crying?” Questioned Alejandro with a long, thin smile that glowed with malicious excitement.

“No Alejandro, I got dust in my eye! And I was looking for stars…” Rodolfo blushed in embarrassment, knowing that his older brother would find his efforts to wish upon a shooting star childish and stupid.

Alejandro got a sort of blush himself, only his was a blush of glee. He enjoyed twisting his younger brother’s mind and any opportunity to do so was never neglected.

“Were you praying for Mamma again, Rodolfo?” Alejandro put on a sudden demeanor of concern.

“Yes, Alejandro…” said Rodolfo with another sniffle.

“You do know Rodolfo, that the reason why God can’t grant your prayers is because he doesn’t know you exist, right?” said Alejandro with a concerned and puzzled look, raising one eyebrow.

“You’re lying Alejandro! I’m gonna tell Papa you’re lying!” Rodolfo attempted to appear angry, but came off as frightened.

“Fine Rodolfo, you don’t have to know, but if you did it might help you save Mamma.”

Memories of sweet summer’s morning air brushing against his face while walking through the Cities Park with his mother hand in hand overcame the damp and stale odors of the attic. Rodolfo’s memories replaced his fears and he nodded towards his stepbrother. “Fine Alejandro. Tell me, but if you’re lying and I find out I’m telling Papa.”

Alejandro smirked and walked towards his little stepbrother full of excitement and sadistic glee. He sat down cross-legged in front of his younger stepbrother. Rodolfo did the same and with a slow deep breath Alejandro began to spin his lies.

“It took God seven days to make the world and the universe. And each day he took his pen and drew the wonders we know. But there were a few mistakes - and as you know, you cannot just erase pen ink. Because it’s permanent. So when he had his mistakes he covered them up with clouds. Now as you and I know, mistakes may seem to be gone with some cover up, but they never really do leave. So on the seventh day that God rested, his angels stole his pen while he was asleep and drew some terrible and wonderful things and they drew us, humans. Now before God woke up, the angels did to us the same thing God did to his own mistakes. They covered us up so they wouldn’t get into any trouble. And that’s why God doesn’t let Mamma live. Its not that he doesn’t love Mamma, it’s because he doesn’t know she exists. We live in a world we cannot interact with because it doesn’t know we’re here.”

“You’re lying Alejandro! We can do things with the world, we can cut trees and make houses and we can grow gardens like Papa’s!”

“Not like that Rodolfo, I mean socialize. That’s how people get things done. We can’t talk to the grass and the trees, we can only kill them. And because the trees can’t explain to each other what killed their friends, they don’t talk about it. Creatures fear the unknown, Rodolfo.”

“Well I’m not afraid of the unknown Alejandro I’m just afraid of losing Mamma.” Rodolfo’s gaze drifted slowly towards the floor. 

“You’re afraid, because you don’t understand what will happen when she is gone. When the witch puts you to sleep Rodolfo, you never wake up. You just dream forever. And when you dream forever Rodolfo, you can be with Mamma too.”

“Alejandro you’re just trying to scare me.” Rodolfo’s voice was shaking.

“Papa said Mamma was confused when she was talking about the witch, he said there is no witch!” shouted Rodolfo, shaking in fear.

“If you say so Rodolfo.” Alejandro stood up, satisfied with is work.

“You didn’t tell me anything I can do to help Mamma  - you just wanted to scare me Alejandro!” shouted Rodolfo fighting to hold back his tears with anger.

“I did tell you what to do Rodolfo, don’t pray to God because it’s pointless and don’t let the witch put Mamma to sleep if you don’t want to lose her.” Alejandro quickly turned around to hide his giddy smile from Rodolfo. Fleeing the attic and retreating to his bedroom laughing in sick joy, Alejandro was filled with gaiety as he lay upon his bed twisting in giggles. Rodolfo though was left in the attic frightened, cold and alone.

In Rodolfo’s mind a song was gently humming a sweet melody as images of his mother checking the streets for broken glass and dangerous objects that had somehow always found themselves there during the violent dusk hours. She did this each morning before the children would travel outdoors to dabble in what imaginations the world had left them in this small forgotten enclave. With rosy cheeks and smiles she emptied the mistakes from their little world of innocence.

Rodolfo walked outside into the cold wind looking at the trash pilling itself upon the ruined street and began to cry. As his tears gently touched the cracks and holes ofJoshua Street, Rodolfo’s memories whispered thoughts of his mother’s maniacal words before she started to sleep.

                                                                ***

“Rodolfo, come closer my son. Let me see you are told a proper tale before I dream...before I dream. A tale that shall last you all the lonely nights you will be without your mother’s voice.”

 As Rodolfo’s mother spoke upon her deathbed, her weakened body seemed to come alive as her tale was spun. She looked to the wooden knots in her bedroom ceiling and her eyes began to twinkle as though she was looking into the mirror of nostalgia.

“Far away and long ago there used to be land green and lush with life.” Pausing with a delirious smile stretching from cheek to cheek and violently rubbing her eyes, Rodolfo’s mother giggled momentarily then continued her feverish tale. “It was found deep within a fragile barrier of children’s imaginations, oh and although the slightest whisper of a child could destroy its beauty, not even the most destructive force made by man could not even scratch its surface.” Her head began to sink backward upon her light orange pillow and her eyes became heavy and closed slowly. Suddenly she batted her eyes quickly and continued. “Land was known as Paradise to the happy, happy creatures that lived within the bright colors of its forests… Paradise had a single creature unlike all the others that would laugh and play all night and day. It would spend its time thinking about things…things of a different sort. Goblin was the name. Oh and he spoke with a raspy voice…he coughed a lot. Like this. ‘Cough, cough! Goblin would hide himself from the other creatures that were skipping and jumping, enjoying their innocence and ignorance… Goblin found an empty spot underneath a tree’s root structure deep within the soil of paradise’s long vibrant plateaus… There, Goblin sat dreaming of a beauty that only he could imagine, a beauty known as death.”

 “But Mamma death is not beautiful, death is scary and sad” interjected Rodolfo.

 “Death is only scary and sad to you and me because we do not know what happens when we die. Goblin too did not know what would happen, but he was in love with the beauty of its mystery.” Shaking her head and grabbing her son’s hand gently, she began to cry. “How…the rest goes…yes, I remember now. He dwelled on thoughts about death and the mystery of his own end for years and years, always alone within his home under the tree. One day he could take no more of his curiosity and soon ended his life with a sharpened rock he found held tight by the roots of his home… Goblin’s blood was the first blood ever shed in paradise. Ever shed, in paradise Rodolfo…with his blood the tree in which he held his home was fed. Over time the tree became gnarled and full of hunger. Its roots sank deep and greedily into the rich soil searching for more blood and death to feast upon and sustain its gluttony. The fruits, which grew upon the trees in paradise, were the source of food for all of the creatures in paradise. Over time the creatures in paradise came to eat from the tree, which was once known as Goblins home. They were at first hesitant to do so but they were tired from traveling so far from their homes and their stomachs eventually got the better of them. I’m so tired as well Rodolfo…are you hungry?”

“No mamma…no thank you.”

 “Okay…let me know if it changes, your belly that is…the creatures gorged themselves upon the trees black fruits and drank the red fluids from within the fruits juicy dripping sacs. They spent the night there by the tree heavily full on its fruits and light on their will to stay awake. Like me… They dreamt of a thing they never knew of before - a thing they found most terrible and frightening. All the might they used to try to wake themselves up with was put to vain, for their sleep was everlasting and their dreams full of death. And they still sleep till this day Rodolfo, they wait for someone to wake them up from their nightmare so they can feed upon the death they once tasted from the tree…taste… For now it is the only thing they desire, just as the tree only desires the taste of death as well…the end.”

“Mamma why do you tell me these things, you’re scaring me.”

“It is not meant to scare you Rodolfo, you see I want you to know something I never told anyone before, a child can go to paradise just like I once did when I was a little girl… And it’s so beautiful Rodolfo, when the witch puts you to sleep…it’s so beautiful.”

                                                       ***

“Mi Hjo,” Came the demanding voice of Rodolfo’s stepfather from within the frame of his front door. “The weather is bitter you will catch a cold, come back inside.”

A cold breeze brushed against the tears in Rodolfo’s eyes reminding him of his mother’s cold touch, soothing his worries and freezing his tears.

Rodolfo ran back inside of his home and went straight past his father into his mother’s room. He quickly locked the door and let his head rest upon it, as tears profusely poured out from his light brown eyes.

Involuntarily Rodolfo’s knees gave in and he fell to them helplessly upon the crude wooden floor and held his eyes as if hoping to stop the well of tears constantly forcing their way upward.

Each tear to Rodolfo was a memory of his mother and as each tear fell he felt his mother slip further and further from his thoughts.

By the end of the tears he was without thought of his mother and his thoughts were replaced by his stepbrother’s story.

‘If God can’t hear me then maybe the mistakes he covered up here with us can hear me.’ Thought Rodolfo.

As Rodolfo began to pray he realized he didn’t know who or what he was praying to, so he decided to give it a name. He turned around to look at his mother on her bed. Skinny and withering in appearance in a deep sleep that was forced upon her by the constant sickening cough, she had lost all of the beauty she once held, now she was no longer the beautiful Theresa, she was now a living corpse.

“Please Theresa come and save my Mamma from death, please Theresa don’t let the witch put her to sleep, I believe in you Theresa I know you can help her and if you don’t nobody else can. Please Theresa help my Mamma, please.” Prayed Rodolfo without a single tear left to drop upon the cold rough wooden floor. These were the final words of hope from a helpless child. A true heart untainted by tears spoke the words penniless to anger, Rodolfo came to Theresa weak and broken. And when nobody responded back, Rodolfo curled into bed upon his dying mother and fell fast asleep.

As Rodolfo slept he felt himself floating in the starless night’s sky. As Rodolfo floated through the sky he began to feel heavier than normal and slowly he began to feel the world around him become lighter and more translucent. Rodolfo began to see an endless sky of beautiful clouds covering a yellow and light blue sun. Just as he began to reach out to touch the clouds he felt his hand rip through the sky as though it were made of paper.

Rodolfo floated through the paper-thin sky and towards the clouds. His eyes were frozen in shock, fixated on a new reality. Great forces of pressure began pushing against the back of his head causing Rodolfo to slip into a soundless fog of thought. He felt his mind begin to pull itself back to his mother’s bedroom, but as the crack of the awakening whip connected with Rodolfo’s mind, a single thought arose: ‘Theresa.’

Just as a mirror reflects an image of one self back to its observer, the yellow and light blue sun reflected Rodolfo’s thought: ‘Theresa.’

A splash of life forming a new matrix of independent thought encircled the yellow and light blue sun, forming it into a collection of long forgotten instincts and insight.

From below himself Rodolfo began to see the old reality he was born to form into clarity, as the structure of the new reality was slowly deteriorating and becoming far too fuzzy in appearance to recognize.

The doorway to his reality was being torn open by a small black mass that connected to Rodolfo’s feet. In shape it resembled Rodolfo and so Rodolfo believed it to be his shadow.

Not wishing to leave this beautiful new reality Rodolfo wished he could grab the shadow and throw it away. But his mind would not bend to the state of willpower it took to stay in this new reality, so he just floated and watched as his shadow began to pull him back into his old reality.

Forceful slender glowing yellow and light blue hands grabbed the shadow and tore its body in two.

Rodolfo felt a strange pinch upon his heart and he turned then to face who was behind him.

Control began to return to Rodolfo and he felt himself no longer being pulled into the old reality.

As Rodolfo turned himself to see the one behind him, the yellow and light blue hand pressed against his cheek. The hand’s caress was cold to the touch and it reminded him of his mother’s hands.

“Do not open your eyes child, allow yourself to fall asleep, let the light warm your heart once more.” Said a gentle female’s voice as the hand closed Rodolfo’s eyes.

“Mamma is that you?” Rodolfo felt his eyelids become heavy and his chest become warm.

“Silence child, now sleep. You have been awake far too long, you have seen far too much and now it is time for rest.”

Rodolfo felt soft cool hands massage his belly and heard a sweet voice covering his worries like a warm layette humming a familiar song. He felt assurance that this was indeed his mother and so he decided to trust her and fall asleep, but first he wanted to see her; just one last time so he could drift away into his dreams with her image in his mind.

When Rodolfo opened his eyes, his mother was not what he had seen. What he had seen was something old and crippled; something tall and grim. The thing cradling Rodolfo within its arms was soiled with a rotten stench oozing forth from parchments of frail wrappings made of blue and yellow light. Her eyes were spotted upon her forehead like pieces of hot ash burned into pale flesh that was hanging above a violent campfire. Her limbs were long and spider like, they contorted and shivered around Rodolfo’s body resembling a fly caught in a web. The thing’s hair was thin and gray, it moved upon its owner like a greedy parasite suckling upon small bubbling soars protruding through the thing’s decayed flesh.

Rodolfo’s jaw was limp and wavering at the sight of the creature, he meant to scream in horror but something deep and thick within his throat prevented any sound from escaping.

The thing dropped its head closer to Rodolfo noticing that he was awake and staring at it in fear. “Child, do not be frightened by my sight, it has been long since I have seen the world beyond my prison and the solitude has not been kind to my flesh. Once I was beautiful, beautiful just as the land below us once was. But times have changed and with the change in the sands of time my manners have also become wilted. Sorry for my rude manners, my name is Theresa. Now what might your name be young child?”

Rodolfo felt himself speak instantly and without any thought of whether he should talk to such a creature as the one in front of him. It was as though he feared what might happen if he did not answer its questions. “My name is Rodolfo.”

“Rodolfo? Why that is a lovely name indeed young child. Now why don’t you relax and tell me a bit about yourself?”

“What do you want to know?”

“How about you tell me how you got here?”

“I…I don’t know. I only remember falling asleep with my Mamma.”

“So you have a mother then? That’s lovely, mothers are truly a must for young children. Especially ones as cute as you.” The creature smiled a wild grin and purred as it leaned in its face to press upon Rodolfo’s stubby nose.

“Are you the witch?” Asked Rodolfo in a squeamish shock.

“Witch?” Pondered the creature. “No little boy, I’m no witch. At least I don’t believe I’m a witch. To be quite honest though, I do seem to forget exactly who and what I am.”

“Could you please let me go?” Rodolfo spoke in a shiver as he curled away from the creature’s grasp.

“Oh, most certainly young child. Do forgive my manners. I’m not quite certain for the reason I’m behaving the way I am.” Spoke the creature apologetically as she slowly floated below to a land previously unnoticeable by Rodolfo.

The land was cruel and tasteless in the eyes of the seven-year-old boy. Vast bleak colorless valleys which seemed to have had the beauty stolen from them by the sky itself, for its untainted beauty acted as a paradox to the land below and almost made it seem invisible.

     The creature gently placed Rodolfo upon the remains of an ancient tree, which was now nothing but a soft pile of ash.

“What happened here Theresa?”

“I can’t seem to remember Rodolfo. But judging by what happened to me, I would have to say it’s what happens when you’re forgotten.”

“It’s all so awful.”

Rodolfo turned in a circle and imagined what the land had once been before it was forgotten. He imagined tall strong forests with branches and vines that connected one tree to another to make a never-ending playground. He imagined a sea of tall grass where he would play hide and go seek with exotic animals and when he was tired and wished to rest there would be perfect moss bedding beside a babbling brook.

But none of that was here; there was only the dismal endless sight of a forgotten paradise. But something in the distance caught Rodolfo’s eye, it was a tree. In the distance it seemed tall and strange. Its branches hung down around its skinny trunk like tired dead men reaching for the ground so they may be buried and at last find rest. “Is that a tree?”

“If you would call that a tree, it looks to me a little too alone to be a tree. Usually trees are found in forests, not all alone like that. It doesn’t seem right.”

Rodolfo began to move towards the tree slowly, all the while peering behind his shoulder at Theresa who was two steps behind.

“The way you’re looking at me reminds me of someone.” Remarked Theresa slow and pondering. “Yes, it was a long time ago, a little girl came here. But that was back when things were green and remembered. She looked at me the same way you look at me now, queer and uncertain. Almost as if she would believe I was going to eat her, bones and all. But back then I was beautiful, I mean it is quite understandable that one would look at me that way now, but why then? Perhaps I am a witch and an evil one at that. Do witches eat little boys and girls, bones and all?”

“Don’t think that way Theresa, you can be whoever you want to be. It doesn’t matter who you once were.” Quickly interjected Rodolfo in an attempt to alter the course of Theresa’s thinking in fear of what her train of thought might bring her to do.

“I suppose you’re right Rodolfo. No sense in thinking that way since I just met you, I mean I wouldn’t want to eat you, after all I believe we’ve become friends.”

Rodolfo felt a shiver of goosebumps flow over his body as Theresa placed her hand upon his shoulder and moved to walk at his side.

“I would like it if you were my friend, then we can always be nice to each other.” Rodolfo smiled hopefully.

Theresa’s face scrunched inward as she started looking all about her self as though she was looking for something she had misplaced.

“Is something wrong Theresa?”

“No Rodolfo, I just can’t seem to find a gift for you.”

“A gift?” Questioned Rodolfo as he scratched his head.

“Yes child, a gift. Every friend needs to be given a gift you know. What kind of friend gives no gift to their friends? No friend at all that’s who.”

“Oh.”

Rodolfo began searching through his pockets for something proper to be given as a gift to his new friend. He plunged his hands deep into his pockets but found nothing but a few coins and a stick of gum.

Theresa did the same only she had reached within her own body and had pulled out one of her eyes, a broken rib and a couple of slimy dripping wriggling things.

“Do I get to pick from those?” Asked Theresa.

“Umm, sure. It’s not really much, but it’s all I brought with me.”

“They seem like lovely things to bring with you on a journey you had no idea you were going to take. May I have the smelly thing?” Asked Theresa as she held the stick of gum up to her nose.

“Sure.”

Theresa held the stick of gum and smiled warmly at Rodolfo, then outstretched her hand with the things she had to offer him.

The wriggling things moved toward Rodolfo dripping a foul thick liquid as they flopped about in Theresa’s hand. Rodolfo looked wide eyed and sickly at the things in Theresa’s outstretched hand, but thought it would be rude not to take something from it since they were now friends. So Rodolfo quickly snatched the piece of rib from her hand, thinking to himself that it was the less icky of the choices he had.

Theresa popped her eye back into its proper place and swallowed the wriggling things whole. “A very nice choice Rodolfo, I hope you enjoy my gift.”

“Very much so Theresa, thank you.” Politely answered Rodolfo as he pocketed the piece of rib.

“What else do friends do Rodolfo?” Theresa sniffed the stick of gum.

“Well my Mamma and I used to tell each other stories and she and I were the best of friends.”

“Stories? Hmm, maybe you can tell me one first so I can see how they are told.” Asked Theresa rubbing her chin.

“Sure, can I tell you my favorite one? The one about the raccoon and the wizard?” Excitedly asked Rodolfo.

“Ooh that one sounds interesting, please go on, tell me.”

Rodolfo was filled with smiles, it had been so long since his mother had told him the story, but it was his favorite one and he never forgot how it went. “Once upon a time there was a little raccoon named Smig. She lived in a forest were no food would grow, all because of a greedy wizard named Zlo. So every time the critters of the forest needed food, Smig would go out and steal it from the wizard’s tower, but this put Zlo in a very bad mood. So one day Zlo decided to trick the sneaky raccoon, by capturing her in his tower and making her a loon. The day came along when all the food was gone and so Smig went out to search about, for food in the tower of the wizard so sour. But when she went in, the wizard put the tower in a spin, confusing poor Smig as the tower began to dig. Below, below the tower descended. Further and further away from the forest above. The wizard laughed and danced all about, cursing poor Smig, who was down and out. But Smig was crafty and never did cry or shed a worry not even a sigh. She sat and waited patiently on a seat, all alone just tapping her feet. Eventually the time had come she had expected, her burrowing friends the badgers had descended. They picked her up and led her out and each carried some food for the animals that never had a doubt. Smig always came through, but sometimes she needed some help from the friends she knew.”

“Wow that was lovely Rodolfo. Okay I think I got the hang of it Let me give this story telling a shot. Once upon a time there was a young boy who was walking in the woods all alone, then a witch suddenly grabbed him and dragged him back into her cottage and threw him in a pot and cooked him.”

“…Was that the story?” Asked Rodolfo with a lump in his throat.

“Yeah, but it seems to be more of a memory than a story to be honest. Does that still count?”

“Sure …”

Theresa smiled happily and slipped her hand into Rodolfo’s tiny hand. “Look the tree is just ahead.” ot+�at
���ine-height:normal;background:white'>“I reckon.”

Looking into the hard determined eyes of the child Nick, a smirk slightly rose upon his own mirrored image; "Some men are just born with grit." He mused. nt�Miy
���","sans-serif";color:#333333'>The site of the monkeys made one of the Generals instantly shit himself; Adolf began to weep.

“Please have mercy!” Begged Adolf upon his knees, (which he was already on).

The monkeys surrounded them wielding knives and guns, David began to laugh in a guttural shake, Yigol stopped himself from vomiting.

Yigol bit back the sickness in his belly climbed down from David and booted Adolf right in the jaw. “Look what your leaders do in your time of need.”

“I don’t want to die! I don’t even want to be the Fuehrer if there’s fighting; I just wanted to have fun! This isn’t fun anymore, I want my mommy!”

Peter crawled over to Adolf’s side but one of the monkeys jumped in front of him, “My Fuehrer, take hold of yourself please!”

Yigol looked down at the pudgy mustachioed man that led all the problems he ever had in his entire life. He was bitten by astonishment at that moment, how could a man like this be leading the world? Adolf shook and wept and begged and screamed for help while Yigol just stood there and watched him in disbelief.

“You only have a bruised jaw there Adolf, don’t you think you should save all this for when we start feeding your insides to the monkeys?” Suddenly chuckled Yigol.

At that moment Adolf fainted.

                                                            ***

            The world watched as Yigol gave Adolf’s Generals the choice to fight the monkeys for the Third Reich or to jump out of the window. They watched as each one of Adolf’s Generals landed with a ‘SPLAT’; some jumped and some where just too scared and cried before being thrown like barrels by David. They watched as Adolf himself was fed to the monkeys and they all watched and held each others hands when Yigol told them they would be next.

                                                            ***

As Yigol and the monkeys left the Gestapo Ball they weren’t surprised to see that the streets were still empty.

Yigol was riding upon David’s shoulders once again, on his way out he had grabbed a bowl of soup for himself that he was now eating and in his mind everything seemed like it was going to be okay. Then he saw Heidi.

She came running out of an alleyway, her little pig tails caught in the wind. “Where’s my Daddy you poop head?!”

Yigol stepped down from David’s back and walked over to her, a look of sorrow on his face. “I-“ he didn’t know what to say.

How can I feel this way? He was a piggish bastard that tried to kill me…no it’s not for him; it’s for this little girl. This innocent little five year old that doesn’t know any better…who just wants her father.”

Heidi pulled out a Kraut Magnum then, though before she had pulled the trigger David crushed her little body under his massive foot. Yigol dropped his bowl of soup.

                                                            ***

            So that’s the story of how I got to where I am now…Nazi America is falling now because of my army but at what cost…the kids are just kids but the monkeys can’t see that—to them they are just another threat to me. While we were in the Gestapo Ball murdering all those men and women, how many children died there too? I was too blind with rage and adrenaline to see the full picture then.

It looks like the Holocaust never ended; it just took another form of hate.

David has been getting more and more malevolent lately and as I’ve told you in the beginning of my story he’s started making a game out of the Nazis deaths. This woman on the floor before me right now was one of our captives, she was making a cake for me and got too close with the knife, she was actually a nice woman, her and I stayed up and talked together last night—she had asked me what I thought the world was going to become now that America was almost free again, I told her I didn’t know and she said that I should calm my nerves because it’s all in God’s hands now. Maybe God favors the animals I said to her. Hey do you think Moses was a giraffe? She laughed.