Issue 27

Old Zadok the tallis-dealer awoke around three in the morning when in Tiberias the rains were still pouring down.   (more...)

My mother invited me to her funeral long before she died. I asked, “Why me?” She replied, “Because I said so.”   (more...)

We are holding hands because one of us asked the other for encouragement. It doesn’t matter who asked who—does it?   (more...)

I didn’t attend my wedding. True, there was no wedding either; just a wedding dinner after a secret wedding   (more...)

What’s the matter with you, he chided himself in the early afternoon hours, shortly before he drove to his parents’ home   (more...)

Koby the truck driver has had a good week and we’re all happy for him.   (more...)

Mallory has better places to be. It’s not true—she’s an eighth grader with exactly nowhere to go   (more...)

As I climbed the stairs to my second-floor walk-up on the not-yet-gentrified Upper West Side   (more...)

The Shabbos dinner dishes had been cleared from the dining room table along with the candlesticks and replaced by a light   (more...)

She was certain that he would not be killed. Other wives at the children's school in the moshav were puzzled   (more...)