THE CROOKED MIRROR (EN)

You're welcome, sir. With such heat, one gets a bit thirsty.

Yeah.... for sure ...that's true.... my dad survived the German occupation of Poland.
On so-called Aryan papers, which were practically just Christian birth certificates.

"......now and at the hour of our death. Amen!".

I beg your pardon. Who? Morris Ziegler? That's me.

So you are that person who is interested in the Holocaust survivors and their stories.

What's that you just said? Was it in Polish?

No Sir! A beer is a beer.
For me, they're all the same.
My father was fussier. Only Okocim-beer or Żywieckie-beer.
But those were the good old days.
Nowadays, no one can taste the difference.
I drink whatever comes along.
Yes, sir, I am always a bit dry in my throat in the mornings....

Yes. It is our cemetery plot. Only the place for one is left. For me.
It was supposed to be for my older brother, but they buried him at the Brothers Capuchins monastery.
They did not even let us know. We found out about it by chance.
In fact, he died for the world a long time ago....

Zalman? I didn't know him personally, but the name sure rings a bell.
Yes.... I remember. Grandma told me about it.
He was a rich old bugger and a miser to boot.
Before the war, he had several tenement houses in the town, but he was too cheap to hire an administrator. So, he collected the rent himself. ...

What? Swietlicki? But that was not his real name!