Showing Results 1 - 6 of 6
Ay, a lifetime buzzed away . . . what is it, all in all? A dream, a short Friday in winter. . . .
Most people start to philosophize after a savory pot roast and a shot of liquor. Reb Nakhmen the…
Pantel the wagon driver stretches out under the covers and sits up, yawning. The house is dark but a faint light is just beginning to penetrate through the peepholes in the shutter.
“It’s…
Worn and torn by many fingers
It stands on the bedroom dresser,
Resting back against its single cardboard buttress,
(There were two)
The gilt clasp that bound it, loose and broken,
The beautiful…
In 1943, the nights were black. The country was at war with Germany and a blackout was instituted, perforated from time to time by fifth-columnists lighting cigarettes to reveal Bom Fim’s defensive…
. . . An empty street. An unfamiliar shack. A tightly shut gate. And hanging over the gate, over the dead street, over us all—a Cossack cap with a raspberry-colored band. A trail of smoke from an…
Johannes pushed his cart laden with fruit and vegetables. He pushed with difficulty for his route lay uphill. Automobiles rushed past him, hooting insolently, demanding the road. Awkwardly he turned…