You won't be disturbing us, because we have an unspoken agreement to talk only in the evenings when it's dark.
Keep your spirits up! I'm doing my best, though it's not always easy. Your time may come sooner than you think. Yours, Anne
THURSDAY, MARCH 23, 1944
Dearest Kitty, Things are more or less back to normal here. Our coupon men have been released from prison, thank goodness!
Miep's been back since yesterday, but today it was her husband's turn to take to his bed-chills and fever, the usual flu symptoms.
Bep is better, though she still has a cough, and Mr. Kleiman will have to stay home for a long time.
Yesterday a plane crashed nearby. The crew was able to parachute out in time.
It crashed on top of a school, but luckily there were no children inside. There was a small fire and a couple of people were killed.
As the airmen made their descent, the Germans sprayed them with bullets.
The Amsterdammers who saw it seethed with rage at such a dastardly deed.
We—by which I mean the ladies—were also scared out of our wits. Brrr, I hate the sound of gunfire.
Now about myself. I was with Peter yesterday and, somehow, I honestly don't know how, we wound up talking about sex.
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