Zohara’s Journey
Barbara Honigmann
1996
I sometimes dream that I’m a prisoner. For days, years. I’m only free at night, for a few hours toward morning. During those hours I can walk around. But I don’t know where to go. All the people I know are asleep, of course, and I’d frighten them if I were suddenly standing in front of their doors, sometime between night and morning. They haven’t…
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