Aron Aronson, 84 years old, was dozing in his armchair, dreaming of a slice of herring. He was aware that the herring wasn’t real but it was better than dreaming of standing in line or of being hit on the head. A loud knock at his door brought Aronson back to reality, a small, dismal apartment on Miodowa Street.
“My name is Zbigniew Krasinski,” said the man at the door. “I’m from the New Solidarity. I must speak with you.”
Aronson let the youn...
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