Issue 21

I stood at the open window like I do every day, my eyes seeking hesitantly, wishing to capture the image of Meir Amschel Rothschild   (more...)

In general, Jews suffer many bodily afflictions – especially diseases of the intestines and lower parts   (more...)

The first thing I remember is hearing Nadianka sing out my name. “Dó-vee-dl R-r-ross-kess,” a rolling Russian r   (more...)

Inside one note, many more are hidden. I learned this from my father, who played the oud   (more...)

It was my mother’s standard Guilt Call. “Did you go to Aunt Mona’s barbecue yesterday?”   (more...)

Park Slope, Brooklyn, 1995. Erich and Hanna have a small apartment on the second floor of a narrow brownstone.   (more...)

It wasn’t until eleven o’clock at night that Sharon was in touch, calling from the public phone by the roadside.   (more...)

Even with our forged identity cards, there were no rooms to be had in Rome for my father, mother, or me.   (more...)

Before his illness, Abram fashioned flutes of precious metals: silver, gold and platinum.   (more...)

The autumn light tarnished the silver—a scalpel, forceps and a filigreed clamp—arranged like a place setting   (more...)

I was a strange boy. Small and sly, I was sometimes consumed by peculiar thoughts and imaginings.   (more...)

Something in the pull of the train leading them to Coney Island made Tamar uneasy.   (more...)

No one cried at Uncle Yossele’s funeral except for Rav Altschuler, whose voice trembled as he eulogized the senior member   (more...)

All sorts of adventurers and explorers came to Leh motivated by curiosity or the will to make a name for themselves   (more...)

The closest I came to seeing my father walk was on Saturday mornings when I helped strap him into braces.   (more...)

Before I was, you were alone. Before I was, you had to fend for yourself. You don’t talk about it.   (more...)