אלמה יורה / סיפור קצר מתוך 'יומן ברלין' 1961 עמ' 7
No, one was at all interested in the now of discussion, was extremely nervous being out of their comfortable topics, but made more uncomfortable knowing that the others felt the same. But why did not one just burst out and call the farce off and begin where the nervousness would fade and the true excitement of conversation and ideas would begin.
One decided not to talk at all showing that she did not want to be a part of this uncomfortableness, but feeling all the more uncomfortable for her silence. In two's, they had all discussed the topics they now wanted to broach, but never together: in two's they had discussed what the missing one thought, but never had they all hashed it out together, this was the time that they waited for, but being actual, they didn't know how to use it, each desperately wanting to begin and feeling utterly foolish just sitting there with minor silences filled in with even foolisher nothings.
Ah, the break, a book of popular quotations, flipped open to the heading of sympathy. After reading a few of the non present's thoughts one blurted out, "Sympathy" is plebian and the ruination of art and a higher life's. But number two, being somewhat confused on this subject thought of a guitar given by someone she thought quite abit about and disagreed, but not knowing if this was ruination or not, number three didn't say much. Then all began to argue on the subject until they decided.
Alma / Berlin Diary 1961