wednesday, march 8, 1944
margot and i have been writing each other notes, just for fun, of course.
anne: it''s strange, but i can only remember the day after what has happened the night before. for example, i suddenly remembered that mr. dussel was snoring loudlyst night. (it''s now quarter to three on wednesday af- ternoon and mr. dussel is snoring again, which is why it shed through my mind, of course.) when i had to use the potty, i deliberately made more noise to get the snoring to stop.
margot: which is better, the snoring or the gasping for air?
anne: the snoring''s better, because it stops when i make noise, without waking the person in question.
what i didn''t write to margot, but what i''ll confess to you, dear kitty, is that i''ve been dreaming of peter a great deal. the night beforest i dreamed i was skating right here in our living room with that little boy from the apollo ice-skating rink; he was with his sister, the girl with the spindly legs who always wore the same blue dress. i introduced myself, overdoing it a bit, and asked him his name. it was peter. in my dream i wondered just how many peters i actually knew!
then i dreamed we were standing in peter''s room, facing each other beside the stairs. i said something to him; he gave me a kiss, but replied that he didn''t love me all that much and that i shouldn''t flirt. in a desperate and pleading voice i said, "i''m not flirting, peter!"
when i woke up, i was d peter hasn''t said it after all.
peter''s cheeks were very disappointing: they weren''t as soft as they looked. they were more like father''s cheeks -- the cheeks of a man who already shaves.
margot and i have been writing each other notes, just for fun, of course.
anne: it''s strange, but i can only remember the day after what has happened the night before. for example, i suddenly remembered that mr. dussel was snoring loudlyst night. (it''s now quarter to three on wednesday af- ternoon and mr. dussel is snoring again, which is why it shed through my mind, of course.) when i had to use the potty, i deliberately made more noise to get the snoring to stop.
margot: which is better, the snoring or the gasping for air?
anne: the snoring''s better, because it stops when i make noise, without waking the person in question.
what i didn''t write to margot, but what i''ll confess to you, dear kitty, is that i''ve been dreaming of peter a great deal. the night beforest i dreamed i was skating right here in our living room with that little boy from the apollo ice-skating rink; he was with his sister, the girl with the spindly legs who always wore the same blue dress. i introduced myself, overdoing it a bit, and asked him his name. it was peter. in my dream i wondered just how many peters i actually knew!
then i dreamed we were standing in peter''s room, facing each other beside the stairs. i said something to him; he gave me a kiss, but replied that he didn''t love me all that much and that i shouldn''t flirt. in a desperate and pleading voice i said, "i''m not flirting, peter!"
when i woke up, i was d peter hasn''t said it after all.
peter''s cheeks were very disappointing: they weren''t as soft as they looked. they were more like father''s cheeks -- the cheeks of a man who already shaves.