The Confessions of Robert T. Odeman - November 30th, 1938

Entry 5:

Today's the date of my birth, Muli; 'tis the day that trademarks 29 years of my life. Merely 5 have been without you, since your untimely departure -- but this one is, by far, the worst.

It's been a long while since anyone got me anything for my birthday -- save Olga. She hasn't cone to visit -- it's been a while -- but I can see her hesitation to visit me.

Oh, how I long to be with you again Muli, but stuck I am in this mental prison, longing to be let out. Although, at some times in here, I'm sure I see you there, Muli -- sitting in the opposite corner of the cell -- staring at me with great sorrow.

Sometimes, when I feel even more alone, I try to kid myself that this isn't reality -- that I'm not really stuck with stale bread and water. But let's be honest, Muli, even if I weren't here, in this dreadful prison cell, you'd still be gone Muli, like you have been for nearly six years.





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