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THE DIARY OF ANNA FRANCO
The New Yorker
|July 21, 2025
Today was so stressful.
November 5, 2024
Papá told our family we had to move out of our home by January 20th and go into hiding because Señor Trump was elected President. He said that Trump will deport us back to El Salvador and that Papá might even go to prison. He said there's a very bad man who's behind it all—a Señor Stephen Miller. My sister Maria says he hates immigrants because he's bald and never had a girlfriend until he was thirty. I told her that's not our fault. Why doesn't he hate women instead? She said he hates everybody. Dogs, too.
December 14, 2024
Papá said he found a hiding place for us. It's in a fancy neighborhood in Los Angeles and we'll be moving there in a month or so. The house belongs to a comedian that my Papá used to work for as a gardener. His name is Señor Larry David. I never met a comedian before. I wonder if they're always funny.
January 20, 2025
They're not. Mr. Larry greeted us at the front door and took us to the attic, which is very nice except for all the pictures of baseball players on the walls. I wondered why such an old man would still care about that. I told him how brave he is to hide us in his house, and he said he lost a bet. Was that a joke? He told us he has two rules. The first is to never put a glass of water on a wooden table. He said we must always respect wood. Was that also a joke? The other rule is no music, especially Latin music. He said it wouldn't be safe. But I get the impression that he hates music and does not like to see people enjoying themselves.
January 28, 2025
This story is from the July 21, 2025 edition of The New Yorker.
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