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SIMPLE HELL
As the train pulled into Auschwitz, Mr Lipowitz started to worry. Strangely enough, it wasn’t his fate he was worrying about, for he knew there was nothing he could do to prevent his imminent murder at the hands of the Nazis. He was worried about what would happen to him after his death. After all, he had not been a good man. He had gambled, he had cheated people, and he had offered up a fellow family of Jews to the Nazis in exchange for his own.
He prayed to God as he had never done so before, for once thinking of others and not himself, praying that God would be merciful and grant his family quick deaths. Then, as the great doors opened, he prayed for himself. He begged for forgiveness from the God he had all but ignored since a boy.
As he was herded into the snow, he wondered if he would go to hell. But as he looked around, and saw what he saw, he realised he would not.
NOTES:
Probably the least successful of all my Holocaust stories, if only because of its lack of subtlety. Displaying my usual impeccable sense of taste and timing I wrote this story during Ms Caroline Gaitely's final A-Level English class before Christmas 1998, in which we had a little contest to see who could write the best short story in 100 words. Everyone else wrote about Santa and reindeers but understandably I was never going to win when everyone else was in a festive mood. I slipped the story into the January issue and received one complaint for insensitivity. I didn't write many more of the stories that appeared in later issues. Though I wrote on my UCAS form (both times) how I enjoyed the challenge, it's harder than it looks. Whilst I tried to get other people to write them, Chris Wilkins was the only one who seemed to notice the distinction between a very short story and a very long joke.
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