— Fiction —

Anne Frank: Observational Comic

Do you ever run into those people who feel the need to hold the barracks door open for you, even though you’re, like, forty feet behind them? And then you feel like you have to jog up to the door, ’cause they always have this pained expression on their face. It’s like, “Yeah, thanks a lot, but we all have scabies and I can open the door for myself.”

Have you noticed how, recently, it’s like everyone hates Jews? What’s that about?

So how many of you guys are sporting your Stars of David tonight? Yeah, I hear ya. Like you can’t tell a Jew from a mile away already, right? It’s like, a life in permanent fear, sure, but a life with a permanent accessory … I’ll see you in the gas chambers. Am I right, ladies?

You know what I hate? Typhus.

The other day Pfeffer and I were hiding out in theAchterhuis and he was like, “I think I hear the Nazis.” So of course I went into total hideout mode. Then he knocked over a book. I just gave him this look, like, “Are you fucking serious?”