We lived in one dark room …

A representation of the Rotfarb family. In the centre there is the father sewing on a sewing machine (sounds are imitated with comic onomatopoeia - TUK). A tiled stove is visible on the right.

It is the title board of the short story, hence there is a blank space on the card for the title (at the top), and at the bottom right - for the opening text of the narrative.

Along the bottom edge of the card with a full-page frame (this type of board is called a splash) - a white strip of additional margin is visible.

In the lower part of the scene in particular Olga Wróbel used a specific way of enriching the colour of the board - she stained selected surfaces. A few small dots - spots of paint - fell into the margin.

“Humankind is great - but in the space it is a lost speck. Nations are great - but lost in humankind. Individuals are in the billions - but lost in the nation. Who cares about an individual human?” - in such a philosophical way 18-year-old Abraham Rotfarb began writing his autobiography. On the following pages, Rotfarb considered his relationship with his large, overworked family. He ended with the statement: “When I am hungry, I satisfy hungry, when cold I warm up at home, and when my aunt takes my shoes full of holes to a shoemaker, I know what my family means to me. I feel sorry for them, I despise them, and yet… I love them”.