The Faith Healer

Abraham Josef Dubelman


I got up and stepped out of the hotel. The early-morning breeze was moist and cool—pure refreshment after a night of suffering.

Everything seemed reborn, and the small-town, good-natured Cubans approached me with their infinite eagerness to be of service.

“Are you looking for the polaco, señor?”

“For my paisano.”

“Over there, where you see the…

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