author Aleksandar Hut Kono

I had three wishes: 
To play the violin despite everything,
To return to Budapest sooner or later,
And to have only meaningful conversations. 
None of them came true. 
But I was in for more than I could imagine. 
For example – 
I ended up in a mass grave.

They came for us for whatever reason. 
In short, 
Like so many times before, 
It turned out it didn't pay to be a Jew. 
Or to be a Serb. 
Or simply to be. 
They came for us in broad daylight
Going against literary conventions.