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On the nights before Passover, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur, my mother would send me to the butcher with some birds to be slaughtered according to ritual so the meat would be kosher—that is, clean…
Contributor:
Lázaro Liacho
Places:
Buenos Aires, Argentina
Date:
1943
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The filthy train lurched along the tracks, jolting my spine through the slats of the wooden seat.
I was thoughtful, my happiness mixed with vague regrets. Happiness? No, a deserter’s sense of hard-won…
Contributor:
José Chudnovsky
Date:
1964