There was a wooden ramp, just about the same width as my chair, that led from the driveway to the front porch. We lived in a ranch-style house, so at ...east I didn’t have to worry about stairs once I was inside.That strange feeling of things being familiar but different hit me once I was inside. I’d look at a chair and almost be able to remember seeing my father sitting there sixty years ago, but not being quite the same color or shape. I could see my mother in the kitchen, but the appliances. We sat together chatting generally about nothing in particular. She opened the top drawer in the nearby cabinet and took out an unimpressive photo album. The first part were general photos of the family before they were decimated by the holocaust. Then there were quite a lot of pictures of Sara growing up. She was a pretty girl.Sarah handed me her empty glass and suggested that we have another one. At the very back of the album, there was a brown envelope. My curiosity was aroused. It was. More

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