Georg, Marlene, Lotte, and Julian were butting heads in a heated discussion at Georg’s place.
“I tell you we need to be more aggressive,” Julian said.
“That’s not a good idea, you heard the Board of Directors. The administration unfortunately cannot give in to our requests, because their hands are tied.” Georg was being the voice of reason.
“Their hands are tied? Don’t make me laugh! The SED is high up the Soviet asses, fearing for their privileges and pajoks if they say a single wrong word.” Julian’s eyes shimmered with rage. While the rest of Berliners suffered hunger and lack of housing, clothes, even paper and pens, the SED functionaries lived in nice villas requisitioned from former Nazis.
pajoksMarlene had never been to Werner’s place, but she knew that he’d chosen a more modest
