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So, Mr. Blum?
So, Mr. Blau?
What’s with you, Mr. Blum?
What should be with me, Mr. Blau?
How should I know what’s with you, Mr. Blum? I’m asking you. May I not ask? Why are you staring so?
I’m staring…
A foreign crawling black stain, that’s what he was—the kosher butcher—in the new, not yet completed, but sparkling white Jewish settlement. Leading up to the High Holidays, he chastised impiety at…
The other day I met a Jew from Shklov on Arbat Street, directly opposite the entrance to the Vakhtangov Theater, and he told me about the moon he knew in Shklov, which urged him to Moscow. The Jew was…
Citizen Voli Brener
A Moscow snowy morning, sun-streaked and dry. When it falls on a Sunday, the morning shines with a thousand Moscow sparkles—rejuvenating white lights that charm and shimmer, as if…
There’s a stale, sour stench: a miscellany of heaped-up vegetables and fruits, cheese, fried fish, sweaty bodies, thighs, urine, and belching drunks. The smell sneaks harsh but titillating into the…
In short, in addition to being affluent, our Reb Hoshea Heffler was also steeped in the holy books. He was a traditional Jew, who could not abide the maskilim, the enlightened ones. He always used to…
Ai, the troubles of a greenhorn! A scholar in the subject of cloakmaking, as I am today, I had not yet become. And if in those days you had “unioned” me till you were blue in the face, I still would…
They would run into each other twice a day: early in the morning, going to work; and in the evening, coming back. They would see one another on the same sidewalk, but they were headed in opposite…
As for me, I was born in Tsviatshits and my name is Mendele the Book Peddler. Most of the year I’m on the road, travelling from one place to another, so people know me everywhere. I ride all over…
Always, by the time the humid, breathless, summer night lifted its veil and a quiet, rosy dawn emerged, when some glimmers of soft, opaque light began to filter through the dried muddy, dusty window…