Ohne Ahnenpass

The director didn’t look at Elsa when he asked her into his office.

‘What is it, Herr Direktor?’

He motioned for her to sit. With knees like jelly, Elsa sat. The director took a deep breath as if about to launch into an extended monologue. Instead, he sighed. Elsa felt more nervous than on her first premiere night.

‘Elsa,’ the director began. ‘It isn’t what I want, but I have to put the theatre first. The Gauleiter left me no choice, they will close us down unless I let you go.’

‘But why, Herr Direktor?’

‘Your lack of Aryan certificate.’

*** Continue reading

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