Even though it's Saturday, I'm not bored! That's because I've been up in the attic with Peter.
I sat there dreaming with my eyes closed, and it was wonderful. Yours, Anne M. Frank
SUNDAY, MARCH 19, 1944
Dearest Kitty, Yesterday was a very important day for me. After lunch everything was as usual.
At five I put on the potatoes, and Mother gave me some blood sausage to take to Peter.
I didn't want to at first, but I finally went. He wouldn't accept the sausage,
and I had the dreadful feeling it was still because of that argument we'd had about distrust.
Suddenly I couldn't bear it a moment longer and my eyes filled with tears.
Without another word, I returned the platter to Mother and went to the bathroom to have a good cry. Afterward I decided to talk things out with Peter.
Before dinner the four of us were helping him with a crossword puzzle, so I couldn't say anything.
But as we were sitting down to eat, I whispered to him, “Are you going to practice your shorthand tonight, Peter?”
“No,” was his reply. “I'd like to talk to you later on.” He agreed.
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