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The Boy in Striped Pajamas

November 5, 2009

We were sitting in my friend Andile’s dorm room.  The curtains blocked out most of the afternoon sun. The sickly blue glow from his laptop gave off the only illumination.  “The Boy in Striped Pajamas.”  I’d never seen it before.  We watched the small boy, shaved head and sickly skin smile at the notion of a friend. “You know, sometimes I think the Holocaust was much worse than Apartheid. Yeah.” I don’t respond. “Because the children.  The children in Apartheid were indirectly affected.  But the children in the Holocaust, they were directly affected.”

Considering. “Yes.” Breaking my eyes from the screen to look at his. “But those children’s children are also indirectly affected. And their children will be indirectly affected…and possibly their children’s children. When does that end?”

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