Do not ask me about my first nightmares in which I shivered naked and hungry as my mother made love to a stranger on a sack of flour hurled into a rat-infested corner. Do not ask me about the beatings and the abasement. Do not ask me about prison and corruption. Do not ask me about my awakening to the presence of my father nor of the pain and humiliation he caused my mother and my half-sister. Never ask me about my failing sight and above all do not ask me about Sigismund’s skin disease which ended all hope for my family.
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