Issue 35

The gym is filling up with people in their finest, fanciest clothes. No, they have not come to work out in their suits and dresses. They’re here for Yom Kippur.   (more...)

It doesn’t mean anything, that the reporter called. It’s just a story. Madman accuses violinist of crazy nonsense during (by the way) a brilliant performance   (more...)

The young couple stood leaning against the boardwalk’s railing, gazing out over the beach. The sea was calm, its dull green waves sluggish.   (more...)

She was an older girl and not very pretty, her body middle-aged, a little shapeless, with a squat, short nose that didn’t match her long face.   (more...)

I’ve got this photo of Joey, in costume, from when he was in the class play in fourth grade. I didn’t take it.   (more...)

My great-aunt Mara was the one who taught me what nominative determinism was. My grandfather made the joke once, when he heard me asking my grandmother   (more...)

Everyone knew that Baker Loew’s pripetshik was haunted. A descendant of the Maharal who conjured a golem to save the Jews of Prague,   (more...)

Richard Laxer, expectant father, slumps into a chair, weary from another restless night. The morning calm is broken by the squealing of a bus   (more...)

My first time in the forest was before the child was born. I was freshly discharged from the army and had come to a picnic with two girlfriends from the service.   (more...)

Viola had hated the apartment, though she would never tell her mother this. She disliked the musty smell, as though too many people had lived here before them.   (more...)

My father's sister Rose still remembers the first time she ate pork. "I thought God was going to strike me dead," she laughs   (more...)

At 120 kilometers an hour, one cigarette lasts for slightly more than three kilometers. I am on my second pack. That would amount to a carton and a half if I drive nonstop.   (more...)