* * *
The streets are busy. Lines of wagons with furniture and other belongings move to the newly created Jewish district. The Jews are growing increasingly restless, since moving possessions is illegal. According to the decree, Jews are only allowed to take bedding and hand luggage from the flats they leave. Lucky are those who already have accommodations.
The deadline for resettlement is approaching, and 10 thousand people are still without a place to live.
Żytnia Street, Okopowa Street. Supposedly, there are still vacant flats here. I go from house to house, from flat to flat. Unfortunately, no premises are available for exchange.
In some flats, no furniture has yet been placed. One image in particular draws attention:
A large room—furniture piled in disarray. One suitcase on top on another. On the rug in the middle of the room, an elderly Jew, completely dressed, with a thick walking stick by his side. They have only just brought the things inside, and he, exhausted from running for the past several days, fell just before the finishing line.
[8] I am returning home. The traffic in the streets is getting worse. More and more hand-carts and horse-carts.
Contractors who swapped their flats are talking easily and even kindly to each other. A truck is pulling up at the gate, another one is leaving.
4 p.m.—in the blink of an eye the street changes. Groups and clusters are forming. Horror registers on some faces, others are smiling, amazement and disbelief are spreading. News travels from mouth to mouth: it has just been announced over the megaphone that Okopowa, Żytnia, and Wolność Streets, etc. are excluded from the boundaries of the Jewish district.579
Obese, garrulous women, always ready for a quarrel, are spouting loud malice at the very same people whom they cordially greeted only
