My father was a doctor,’ she says, ‘a very kind man. He died in the early ’70s, relatively young.’ She taps the cigarette packet on the table. ‘Of lung cancer.”Oh.”But the thing about that is,’ she says as she exhales, ‘it doesn’t take very long at all.

My father was a doctor,’ she says, ‘a very kind man. He died in the early ’70s, relatively young.’ She taps the cigarette packet on the table. ‘Of lung cancer.”Oh.”But the thing about that is,’ she says as she exhales, ‘it doesn’t take very long at all.

– Anna Funder –

Stasiland: Stories from Behind the Berlin Wall

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