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No one paid any attention to Aronek. He took a piece of bread from the cupboard, chose the largest carrot, and went to the neighbors.
At the widow Gitel’s it was warm and clean. From the ceiling hung…
. . . An empty street. An unfamiliar shack. A tightly shut gate. And hanging over the gate, over the dead street, over us all—a Cossack cap with a raspberry-colored band. A trail of smoke from an…
[…]Uncle Herbert was right, part of the time they made them use toothbrushes, for a joke. They sloshed bucketfuls of ammonia and other stuff that burns the skin and stings the eyes over the street and…