Deirdre ragged on me for scaring Zteitel.
“She’s Jewish. You shouldn't be scaring the Jewish girl.”
“Why should that make a difference?”
“We speak German at home and you’re scary.”
“Does she think we’re neo-Nazis?”
“I’m just sayin’.”
Let me just sit down on my front stoop, smooth out my dress uniform, push back my hair behind my ear, and sing,
Heil to me