In order for you to know my story, you must first know who I am. I am the monarch of a small principality surrounded on three sides by mountains. And although my realm is hardly a shiny pebble in regional politics, my palace seems endlessly permeated
Jo had come to us at the start of the summer. She’d simply arrived one day at the servants’ entrance, and had asked whether we had any work for her. It turned out that she had set off from her family home in Wales, where she was one of six children,
Vienna, Austria, 1944. Ilsa Hoffmeyer knew instinctively that she was in deep trouble. The two men in leather black trench coats had been following her for the better part of two hours now, “They must be Gestapo,” she thought to herself!!! She du
“It’s sure hot,” I think wearily to myself. The summer sun is high above me and won’t soon be dropping from the sky. Sweat pours into my eyes and burns them. I wipe an arm across my face and groan at the amount of logs yet to chop.vbcrlfvbcrlf Return