the Umschlagplatz for the day. He would get some sleep,
before accounting for his five tomorrow.
Duritz trudged home.
His body was wet inside his uniform from perspiration. There had been a flash
shower also, but the sweltering sun soon returned and re-animated the unholy
ordure (rotting flesh, faeces, and mouldy fruit) which saturated the ghetto.
People were starting to filter out of every crevice of the district now that
the selections were over for the day. Queues were forming at the water vendors.
Black market food was being traded. Consumptive, tubercular coughs peppered the
air. People were asking who had been taken. Adam noticed Kolya Rubenstein dart
out of a building with a small bundle. The little rogue had probably got wind
of a family that had just been evacuated and had helped himself to any
provisions or possessions they might have left. How different he was from his
sister, but that was all the time he allowed thinking upon the brother.
Jessica Rubenstein. Her image swirled up again into his mind's
eye. Part of him wanted to fuck her again, get rid of the raging despair that
way. But that would have only brought him a new, different feeling of remorse.
Or the same one. More than Jessica though, Duritz just needed a jug of water
now. He had been dehydrated all day from the previous evening's alcohol. Yet
still he thought of his old succubus.
Jessica. It was as though Nature itself had conspired
against him all those years ago. It was an afternoon in July. The sun massaged
rather than burnt down upon the town. One had to squint if one gazed upwards at
the bright blue sky, though one gladly did so to witness the beautiful
firmament, ribboned in strips of coral-white cloud. Flowers bloomed and
perfumed the air. The idealistic, unsociable student had read "The Sorrows
Of The Young Werther" again in one sitting the evening before. The private
tutor was taking on a new pupil. He was glad of both the extra money and the
excuse it would furnish him with to keep him out of the house. His father
worked him in the bakery nowadays after his classes finished, being allowed to
study or have some leisure time only when the clearing up and prep work for the
morning had been completed. The money he brought in and gave to his father
(minus the small sums which he failed to disclose out of selfishness and
revolt) granted the youth freedom to be let off his chores.
Adam’s black, greasy hair was washed and brushed. His mother
had cleaned and ironed his best white shirt. He also borrowed (stole) one of
his father's best ties. He looked suitably smart in the shirt and tie and hoped
they would compensate, or draw attention away from, his worn trousers and old
shoes. Adam wanted to make a good impression on his prospective new employers.
They lived in a monied district, populated by doctors, lawyers, bureaucrats.
Not only would their employment of him help pay for University but they were
also would-be contacts for when he would complete his studies. He wanted to one
day exist in their world not as an outsider, but as an equal. He was seduced by
their polished sphere, the refined manners, beautiful possessions, intelligent
conversation, love of books, fine foods, tastes, liberties and glamorous women.
A serving maid opened the door to the three-storey town
house. Unsure as to his importance, or the esteem in which the family held the
private tutor, the dour looking servant treated him with begrudging respect.
After they eventually assessed his station and rank the staff soon treated the
pretentious tutor with the same level of respect as they did the chimney
sweeper or coal man. The antagonism between him and the rest of the staff only
increased with the student's clever comments towards them - and acting as if he
were above them in social status. He bowed and was suitably well-mannered and
professional in dealing with his new charge's mother and father. He was
charming and intelligent, equally equitable towards both
before accounting for his five tomorrow.
Duritz trudged home.
His body was wet inside his uniform from perspiration. There had been a flash
shower also, but the sweltering sun soon returned and re-animated the unholy
ordure (rotting flesh, faeces, and mouldy fruit) which saturated the ghetto.
People were starting to filter out of every crevice of the district now that
the selections were over for the day. Queues were forming at the water vendors.
Black market food was being traded. Consumptive, tubercular coughs peppered the
air. People were asking who had been taken. Adam noticed Kolya Rubenstein dart
out of a building with a small bundle. The little rogue had probably got wind
of a family that had just been evacuated and had helped himself to any
provisions or possessions they might have left. How different he was from his
sister, but that was all the time he allowed thinking upon the brother.
Jessica Rubenstein. Her image swirled up again into his mind's
eye. Part of him wanted to fuck her again, get rid of the raging despair that
way. But that would have only brought him a new, different feeling of remorse.
Or the same one. More than Jessica though, Duritz just needed a jug of water
now. He had been dehydrated all day from the previous evening's alcohol. Yet
still he thought of his old succubus.
Jessica. It was as though Nature itself had conspired
against him all those years ago. It was an afternoon in July. The sun massaged
rather than burnt down upon the town. One had to squint if one gazed upwards at
the bright blue sky, though one gladly did so to witness the beautiful
firmament, ribboned in strips of coral-white cloud. Flowers bloomed and
perfumed the air. The idealistic, unsociable student had read "The Sorrows
Of The Young Werther" again in one sitting the evening before. The private
tutor was taking on a new pupil. He was glad of both the extra money and the
excuse it would furnish him with to keep him out of the house. His father
worked him in the bakery nowadays after his classes finished, being allowed to
study or have some leisure time only when the clearing up and prep work for the
morning had been completed. The money he brought in and gave to his father
(minus the small sums which he failed to disclose out of selfishness and
revolt) granted the youth freedom to be let off his chores.
Adam’s black, greasy hair was washed and brushed. His mother
had cleaned and ironed his best white shirt. He also borrowed (stole) one of
his father's best ties. He looked suitably smart in the shirt and tie and hoped
they would compensate, or draw attention away from, his worn trousers and old
shoes. Adam wanted to make a good impression on his prospective new employers.
They lived in a monied district, populated by doctors, lawyers, bureaucrats.
Not only would their employment of him help pay for University but they were
also would-be contacts for when he would complete his studies. He wanted to one
day exist in their world not as an outsider, but as an equal. He was seduced by
their polished sphere, the refined manners, beautiful possessions, intelligent
conversation, love of books, fine foods, tastes, liberties and glamorous women.
A serving maid opened the door to the three-storey town
house. Unsure as to his importance, or the esteem in which the family held the
private tutor, the dour looking servant treated him with begrudging respect.
After they eventually assessed his station and rank the staff soon treated the
pretentious tutor with the same level of respect as they did the chimney
sweeper or coal man. The antagonism between him and the rest of the staff only
increased with the student's clever comments towards them - and acting as if he
were above them in social status. He bowed and was suitably well-mannered and
professional in dealing with his new charge's mother and father. He was
charming and intelligent, equally equitable towards both
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