“I cannot .. cannot .. do this, Papa,” I say, trying to muster up courage. Stacked next to me are flyers of the upcoming Nazi convention, the Swastika symbol on each a glaring omen.
Papa looks at me hard, his eyes boring holes into my skin. His unflinching gaze makes me feel unbelievably small. And I shudder involuntarily.
“I fell in love,” I murmur as softly as I can. “With Hanukkah. Hebrew. And … Moses.”
I see the Luger too late. The silent night is interrupted only by the echo of a gunshot. Just one. Then it is quiet again.
Imagine a love so strong that it transcends not just traditions and religions, but borders, generations of hatred, and a whole belief system that one has been raised with. Judeophilia refers to extreme love for the Jewish, in which one might go against their own religions/culture and start adapting those of Judaism.
This post is written as part of a 100 word microfiction series for the A2Z Blogging Challenge.
Read other posts in the A2Z 2018 Blogging Challenge here.
For the complete works of A2Z 2016 Blogging Challenge, click here.