I could feel it. Was I dead? No, the cover stopped at my chest. My chest. I could feel the pain just below the surface. Why wasn't anyone here? Was th...s a morgue? I had to make someone understand ... I wasn't dead.I lay there, trying to assemble the information I had available. I was alive, it was dark, I was on some kind of a platform, I was hurt, but ... what else? At some point I could hear noises. Footsteps, I thought. That's good. Someone is coming for me. But they never did. And little. " Making the beds, dusting, vacuuming, and washing the dishes are allproperly the wife's responsibility." A wife should be ready at all times to change her plans to suit thewishes of her husband."I had no idea at the time why the two women were so intent on getting meto react to statements with which any feminist would take exception andwith which they probably did not agree themselves. Their purpose onlybecame clear to me at the time of my departure from the camp.Our leaving was scheduled for. More

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