[Erik's not trying to convince, and he shoots Alex a small, rueful smile. Believing is the easy way out, he thinks. Because there was a time when he did believe, with all his heart and soul. He believed in doing mitzvot, he learned how to wrap the tefillin he would wear after his Bar Mitzvah, he learned the prayers while sitting on his father's knee and listening to his mother sing.
That was another lifetime, before the ghettos and the camps, before everything spiritual and godly was taken from him and replaced with monstrosity.
He believed that, for a long time. He doesn't believe it so much anymore.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Erik steps down from the dais, moving to sit next to Alex.]
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That was another lifetime, before the ghettos and the camps, before everything spiritual and godly was taken from him and replaced with monstrosity.
He believed that, for a long time. He doesn't believe it so much anymore.
Sliding his hands into his pockets, Erik steps down from the dais, moving to sit next to Alex.]
It's a nice thought, I suppose.