Nightfather
Carl Friedman
1991
He never mentions it by name. It might have been Trebibor or Majdawitz, Soblinka or Birkenhausen. He talks about “the camp,” as if there had been just one.
“After the war,” he says, “I saw a film about the camp. With prisoners frying an egg for breakfast.” He slaps his forehead with the palm of his hand. “An egg!” he says shrilly. “In the camp!”
So…
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