I look into the eyes of the people surrounding me. They have the same look I can feel on my face. Sorrow. And despair. I can barely walk anymore, I haven't eaten in a week. But they won't let us stop. They still cry in a language I cannot understand, but with a hatred I fear. They believe they have the last of our race, and I think they might be right. The Nazis had been hunting us for almost thirty years now. I look at what will undoubtedly be the place I will die. God have mercy on us.
Brandon Sutton about 9 years ago
A thanks to Art Spiegelman for Maus, the inspiration for this piece. It is probably the best written story that I wish with all my being was fiction.
Brandon Sutton about 9 years ago
I hardly got through this one, because I just about started crying before I finished it. I hope it has the same impact with readers.
D.M. about 9 years ago
Agreed.