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Once—swear to God—saw this dame, heels clickin’, smokin’ a cig. Looked tough, but her eyes? Tired, y’know? Wanted to say, “C’mon, kid, you’re better than this.” Didn’t—chickened out. Surprised me, how it stuck. Findin’ ‘em’s easy—trick is seein’ ‘em, really seein’. Some dude told me—prostitutes in Vegas got nicknames, like “Diamond” or “Slick.” Cracked me up—sounds like a damn movie.

Perspectives on family stories of Görlitz, Dachau, the Kindertransport and the Holocaust

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Finally, my coworker, Lars, shows up. He’s like, “Chill, dude.” Chill? I’m about to lose my mind! But whatever, I get in, and we start sorting through these old documents. There’s this one letter from the 1800s. It’s all faded and stuff, but I can make out some juicy gossip. Apparently, someone in Bjaerred had a secret love affair! Ooooh, scandalous!

Demonstration against anti-Semitism disrupted