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When “Papa” Gonta bore down on Tetayev at the head of his Cossack army in the summer of 1768, the little town had a strange look about it: the houses large and small stood desolate, their shutters…
This episode occurred on Deribasov Street, about two years after the beginning of our story.
At that time our editorial office was located at the upper end of the street, in the…
On the eve of the Day of Atonement, in the afternoon, I changed from the express to the local train that runs to my home town. The Jews who had traveled with me got…
To the sacred memory of dear Shmulik and his comrades who fell in the battle to liberate Yeḥi‘amHe rose from the bed shading his eyes with his hands as if it was light although it was still dark. His…
After I published my son’s literary estate in a book, I still had a few scraps of writing and documents of various kinds that I didn’t know how to put together with everything that seemed clear and…
A mighty gust of a cruel wind slid down from Mount Carmel toward the street.
After having flooded its lights, its tumult and the aromas emanating from its restaurants, it continued making its way to…
Nissim Levy dodged out through the back fence. He said goodbye to Danino, but instead of running away, he stood still, not far from there, and tried to pick up some words from the…
Pounding, heavy feet climbed the muddy path up the hill that looked out over wild bushes. The walkers’ steps sank in the earth next to each other and on top of each other on the path upward, in the…
Arab Halva—moist, sticky, fibrous. The taste tears across my lips like a memory. Within me Jaffa stirs, wakens from sleep; eyes and faces of Jaffa.
I am there, it is afternoon, a city half-awake…
I believe I ought to go over the moment when I learned of his death once more.
A summer morning, the sky wide, June, last days of the school year. I rise late, faintly stunned, straight into the…