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About Grzhebin on canvas, about Grzhebin in the flesh. Since the letter is written in a penitent mood, the trademark of the Grzhebin Publishing House is affixed. Here too are several…
We waited half through the night, with the news leaking out to us. The confessions were going well. The time was long because the state’s attorney was going over each fact, nailing down the evidence…
But all this came to an end one night. In almost every one of his novels, Warszawski retells the scene in the winter of 1944 when he came home at three o’clock in the morning, after a night of dancing…
And now for my style. I must frankly confess that I have invented a new one. I am conscious of the hazard of such innovation, but I have not adopted my system without long meditation, and a…
This story admittedly took place a long time ago and furthermore in a far-off land—in England, in fact. Yet in spite of everything, it is still important and worthy of being…
“Your teeth are bars of bone. Behind them, in a crystal cell, your shackled words. Remember the advice of an elder: the guilty, those that dropped poison pearls into your goblet—let them go free. In…
Yom Kippur and Rosh Hashanah, the so-called “Days of Awe” arrived.
There was no Jew in all of Bom Retiro who, God forbid, would ever think of not observing them. Any endeavor, no matter how important…
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…
Opposite the windowsill is a shuttered curtain and a wasteland of chimneys. The street is being drained of life. A double-decker bus with gleaming windows of light passes by the corner. A woman pushes…
Every article you’ve done for us, Phil,” Minify had said, “has a kind of human stuff in it. The right answers get in it somehow.”
Sure. But he hadn’t asked for them and pried for them. When he’d…