Friday, January 13, 1984 The night lasts forever. Sleepless, I torture myself with memories. Fall 1977 …
Thursday, January 12, 1984 Nothing happens. Many hours of brutal silence. Doubts arise. Why did I do this to myself? Exponential drift into the past โ spring 1983 …
Wednesday, January 11, 1984 The flap opens. Stationery and a list of lawyers are passed through. A short letter to one of them. An attachment with the heading โApplication to leave the countryโ.
Tuesday, January 10, 1984 Rump-rump, rattle-rattle, lock-lock. This sound is produced when a prison guard slams open the two steel bolts on the upper and lower frame of the cell door with his hands and feet in a fluid motion.
Monday, January 9, 1984 Rump-rump, rattle-rattle, lock-lock. The door bangs open. A big old prison guard with a cute fistula voice and a nicely delicate face barks “Get out!”.
Sunday, January 8, 1984 This is what a prison cell looks like from the inside. Roughly as I imagined it from books about the Nazi era. Five step lengths long, three steps wide.
Saturday, January 7, 1984 This is our last chance. If we tell a fairy tale now, we might get out of this place again. But I wrote the note to prevent that.
Friday, January 6, 1984 Here we go again. Selchow, the drunken clochard, wants to kick me out again. This time he’s going to overdo it and make a big deal of it. This is the opportunity to finally start my final journey.