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Maria

 

I don’t know how long I have been silent about this! I was born in Italy… in a house a little way from the town… and… I cannot even remember my family. I prefer not to break my head with it now. I know only what I know… but I am certain that I was always alone. We had a little piece of land… some chickens and… lovely rabbits… but the rabbits died.

My father was an ordinary man… he was no fascist. He could walk free and nobody ever stopped him. But it would take so long for me to tell you about my family… the ones who were killed by the fascists. My uncles, the poor, poor men… no one would know who they were now… they died so long ago. Tomas played the accordion… he had done nothing wrong… but he played his accordion in the street and the Nazis hung him for it! The poor man! The thread… the rope… it broke four times! He should have been set free.

I ran away… my mother put some clothes in a bag… and we left our land and walked across the border… I was just a few years in Switzerland… I was already on my way to England… and I am still here… and I should have gone back home… it was so stupid of me. I should have run home… I would have had my own little room… my bedroom… a garden… the rabbits.