Miep often says s may be true, but s t our fear.
I simply cant imagine talk about quot;after t; but its as if I alking about a castle in t can Ii never come true.
I see t of us in tcly round spot on ill safe, but tigige searc o eac ting doy up above. In time, off by t looms before us like an impenetrable rying to crus not yet able to. I can only cry out and implore, quot;O us out!”
Yours, Anne
thURSDAY, NOVEMBER 11, 1943
Dearest Kitty,
I itle for ter:
Ode to My Fountain Pen In Memoriam My fountain pen prized possessions; I valued it e neatly eresting fountain-pen life, which I will summarize below.
ain pen (packed in cotton) arrived as a quot;sample of no commercial valuequot; all the kindly donor)
used to live. I lay in bed ment ain pen came in a red leat to my girlfriends t c. Me, Anne Frank, tain pen.
en, I o take to sco my surprise, teac me e . reasure o be tucked aeaco use only scs. arted at tain pen also een, tain pen o togetless diaries and compositions. Id turned fourteen and my fountain pen year of its life h me when . . .
It after five on Friday afternoon. I came out of my room and to sit do table to e o make room for Margot and Fated to practice tin. tain pen remained unused on table, iny corner of table, o tate. At a quarter to six I s t into a neten beans, and tossed it into tove. A giant flame s up, and I t it tove, breath, had made such a miraculous recovery.
All again. tin students , and I sat do table to pick
up no matter ook anot looked, Mother looked, Dussel looked.
But it had vanished.
quot;Maybe it fell in tove, along ; Margot suggested.
quot;No, it couldnt ; I replied.
But t evening, ill turned up, fears day o empty tove and discovered to fasten it to a pocket, among t a trace of t.
quot;It must ed into stone,quot; Fatured.
Im left ion, small t may be: my fountain pen ed, just as I o be someda