Son, I’m gone.

If you’re reading this, I’m gone.

The Berlin wall it seems is close to falling, the cries of my comrades were not in vain; we will be freed from this dictatorship.

Xin li ,my beautiful son, I PROMISE that you will be able to go and meet your true parents once again. You will no longer be shackled to the city of diaspora and its authoritative and unjust ruler, you will be able to go back to a region where you aren’t racially discriminated against, where you aren’t called dehumanizing things, where I know you will go onto flourish and live your life, and someday start your own family. If you could see my face right now, you would see the premature pride that I feel for you, my son; I know you will go on to do amazing stuff and just having you in my life has been a blessing. Attached to this letter is something that I have left for you, to remember me by a porcelain rose that I’ve added a petal to everyday that we have advanced on the front lines.

As we advance, we see an unimaginable amount of propaganda that has been used to brainwash the robots like citizens and soldiers of the Soviet Union. Khrushchev's henchmen are ruthless and cold, the look of disgust in their eyes as they shoot our comrades point blank. They look… grey. I really do sympathize for them, they have no say in what they do, they can’t make their own choices, and they can’t do anything on their own that even goes against the communist morals and values. I glanced over a poster that’s been produced by the European literature network( which we all know is run by the Russian government) that read: ‘we are happy to welcome YOU to our Network’. I noticed how the word ‘network’ was capitalized as if it had a hidden meaning. I feel empty. There’s a 90% chance that I will be executed by Khrushchev’s henchmen on my way back from attempting to topple the berlin wall. There’s a woman who I’ve fallen in love with as well, Mila. She and I have had some very intimate encounters. I hoped to wed her once we got back, but she passed in my arms. She was explaining to me how she thought to be pregnant, with her last words being, my period has not come yet.



I whispered into her ear. ‘your period has not come?’ as she breathed her last breath. Xin, I love you very much. I always have and I always will.

Love, Casper (Dad).