The Book Thief - Markus Zusak

The Book Thief Markus Zusak

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Unformatted text preview: il Hitler,” she responded, straightening taller behind the counter. “And you?” She glared at Liesel, who promptly gave her a “heil Hitler” of her own. It didn’t take Rudy long to dig the coin from his pocket and place it firmly on the counter. He looked straight into Frau Diller’s spectacled eyes and said, “Mixed candy, please.” Frau Diller smiled. Her teeth elbowed each other for room in her mouth, and her unexpected kindness made Rudy and Liesel smile as well. Not for long. She bent down, did some searching, and came back. “Here,” she said, tossing a single piece of candy onto the counter. “Mix it yourself.” Outside, they unwrapped it and tried biting it in half, but the sugar was like glass. Far too tough, even for Rudy’s animal-like choppers. Instead, they had to trade sucks on it until it was finished. Ten sucks for Rudy. Ten for Liesel. Back and forth. “This,” Rudy announced at one point, with a candy-toothed grin, “is the good life,” and Liesel didn’t disagree. By the time they were finished, both their mouths were an exaggerated red, and as they walked home, they reminded each other to keep their eyes peeled, in case they found another coin. Naturally, they found nothing. No one can be that lucky twice in one year, let alone a single afternoon. Still, with red tongues and teeth, they walked down Himmel Street, happily searching the ground as they went. The day had been a great one, and Nazi Germany was a wondrous place. THE STRUGGLER, CONTINUED We move forward now, to a cold night struggle. We’ll let the book thief catch up later. It was November 3, and the floor of the train held on to his feet. In front of him, he read from the copy of Mein Kampf. His savior. Sweat was swimming out of his hands. Fingermarks clutched the book. BOOK THIEF PRODUCTIONS OFFICIALLY PRESENTS Mein Kampf (My Struggle) by Adolf Hitler Behind Max Vandenburg, the city of Stuttgart opened its arms in mockery. He was not welcome there, and he tried not to look back as the stale bread disintegrated in his stomach. A few times,...
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This note was uploaded on 01/17/2014 for the course ENG 99 taught by Professor Michal during the Winter '13 term at CSU Sacramento.

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