/u/One_Armed_Pug's posts
My grandfather would often tell me stories of his time at Auschwitz, and the tragic tales always filled me with a sense of burning injustice.
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I remember when I was young, I'd turn off the basement lights and run upstairs as fast as possible, away from the monster and into my father's loving arms.
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Testing out my new shrinking suit, I began my infiltration by ascending the inside of the drainpipe.
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