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During the bitterest days of my European exile, I turn to the photo album where I keep, along with more recent memories, a few images from my childhood—images that enlarged and corrected, come back to…
All along the street, on both sides, on the lowest floor of the houses there are a multitude of stores, large and small. The majority of them are pressed into holes so narrow as to allow passage for…
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…
[ . . . ] Marjorie returned to the bedroom and waited for a moment, watching the doorknob. Then she walked to the full-length mirror on the closet door, and draped the black dress…
In the women’s prison where the Guards had taken Peacock, six people slept in a cell designed for one. They sat on the floor, occupying every rat-infested inch, blindfolded and handcuffed for weeks in…
“You found the victim?”
She nodded.
“Was she conscious at the time?”
“Yes. Baruch Hashem.”
“Pardon?”
“Nothing. Mrs. Adler was conscious.”
“That’s fine,” Decker said. He faced the uniforms. “Cordon off…
A Holocaust survivor grapples with the question: should one bring children into the world after experiencing the horrors of the death camps?
As a symbol of the past—all sadness and humility—my mother’s face swims up and rises before my eyes. Her eyes two black abysses, anguish peering from them; her lips moist and rosy, a smile always…
Having risen from behind the Judean hills late at night, the moon illuminated the Yemenite neighborhood and the nearby bushland; it played a magical game there between the trees. It hid behind them…