Blood
Lázaro Liacho
1943
On the nights before Passover, Rosh Hashanah, and Yom Kippur, my mother would send me to the butcher with some birds to be slaughtered according to ritual so the meat would be kosher—that is, clean and proper to eat at a Jewish table.
We lived near the gates of Palermo, and the butcher was located in the ghetto at Junín and Lavalle. We would make…
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