TE20 Migrant Mosaics

Carmen-Francesca Banciu

privileged we were!

Well, yea. And so it went. And Father’s eyes sparkled. And were moist. His voice. The New Times that he would not live to see. The New Human. And our children. And the happiness. The fulfilled duties.

I don’t think I was even six.

Father could not be blamed. His origin was clearly “healthy.” He was loyal to the Party and wanted to climb to the top. I had the best future beforeme. Noonedoubted that I could be relied upon. That it turned out differently, Father has never forgiven me. We, the children from the PCR-Block, were in the care of the Party and being watched by the security agencies. They wanted to know how we were developing and to what extent they could rely on us. The experiment with the New Human of the New Era could not fail. I have clearly felt the consequences of this fear. I felt watched. Followed. Shadowed. How much my parents knew about this surveillance or wanted to know about it, I don’t know. At least they didn’t take me seriously. It wasn’t a matter of naiveté in their case. Yet Father spoke of imagination and fits of hysteria. Mother always feared rape.

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