Bridal Veil
Amalia Kahana-Carmon
1984
Along the nocturnal road were trees, nodding heads like people. The light of the speeding bus falls on them, withdraws from them. And the vapour-veiled moon crescent is getting blurred. But why is her throat so dry—Shoshana gazed through the window for a long time.
Once, traveling home with Father’s laundry, a nice young man, maybe a student at the…
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