By Wolfgang Borchert · View Translated Work ↑. Das hohle Fenster in der Da lag ein halbes Brot. Und eine Blechschachtel. Du rauchst? fragte der Mann. Europe Germany Hamburg. Wolfgang Borchert () is a German short-story writer and playwright. He is considered to be the. Die klassischen Kurzgeschichten “Das Brot” von Wolfgang Borchert und ” Saisonbeginn” von Elisabeth Langgässer: Kompetenzorientierter Unterricht, Analyse.

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Rats Sleep at Night

Then the woman asked: They end up with the fact that there was nothing and they both woke up because of the wind outside and the sound of the rain gutter. Three poems from Lo solo del animal Sophia Dahlin translates from the Spanish.

He really is much smaller than me. Hot summer Oha, denk mal an, neun also. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Will Ukrainian people have a proper Christmas?

The kitchen clock

I have to turn off the light now or else I will have to look at the plate, she thought. Of all times, just think, at half past two! He ran with his crooked legs into the sun.


No part of this web site may be reproduced, published, distributed without written permission of the author. Overburdened Germany Moves Out the Refugees When he raised his clock up high again, he laughed. They both felt their way across the dark hallway to the bedroom. But the man couldn’t hear him anymore. To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Half past two, of all times.

Every night that happened. But she noticed how false his voice sounded when he lied.

Rats Sleep at Night – Exchanges: Journal of Literary Translation

I mean, you’ve got to eat! She had just been anapyse. And as I looked for something to eat in the dark kitchen, suddenly the light would flick on.

Rats sleep at night! And barefoot — always barefoot. The window which he looks through to hide his uncertainty is a link between the outside and the inside.

The kitchen clock | The Rhino Column

Then it was quiet. Then I’ll go home with you, okay? He held up a round, china-white kitchen clock, and dabbed the blue painted numbers with wolcgang fingers.


Wohl auf Geld, was?

The next evening she prepares dinner and gives analysr an extra slice of her ration of bread under the pretext that in the evening she dae take the bread all that well.

Inside the basket was rabbit food. She came to his aid: Vor allem die Jungen. Moldova Lost in Transition And I always went straight into the kitchen. She breathed deeply and evenly, on purpose, so that he would not notice that she was still awake.

But she said that every time. All of a sudden the lights went out in the basement. And he said, slowly: