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(The stage is bare, on stage are Sonia and Yishai. Music.)Sonia:Yishai, aren’t you the one who’s bringing the children from Ahuza?Yishai:No, Yoska, 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…
A Conversation between Abou Khalil and Abou Naddara Zarqa at Café Riche, Boulevard des Italiens, on the Night of the 14th of July 1878, Paris[ . . . ] Abou Khalil:Good Lord, I’ve missed your banter…
My mother often sent me shopping to 18th Avenue (not a far distance, but for a kid it was unfamiliar territory), the district of Middle Eastern groceries, whose shopkeepers were…
When the bus disappeared, taking away their child, the Bensaïds remained on the empty sidewalk, their souls as barren as if their daughter had been carried off by death.
With a…
As if you could draw a line and say: below this there’s poverty.
Here’s the bread that turned black in the colorations
Of cheap makeup
And the olives in their little plate
Atop the cloth over the…