TE20 Migrant Mosaics


Birke thought, standing in front of this door. I’ve never thought of myself as a princess, and I only know the Empire, the Kaiserreich , frommy history books, but I feel likeMrs. Rakoczi sometimes. Or at least the second version of Mrs. Rakoczi, who is two hundred years old and lived during imperial times and reminisces on her former life in Budapest while sitting in her majestic chair. Mrs. Rakoczi and I are always looking at back then . But it’s not history. It’s just back then , when things were like they were with princes and princesses and valiantly fought wars and real mothers who didn’t kill themselves. Mrs. Rakozci misses her home and her mother’s Gulasch .

I am going inside now. I am hungry.

Birke stepped through the threshold of her door.



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