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…I remember a woman
who sat on the pot where the apples cooked in the cold
basement, her face black from smoke. And here, near this brick
building with a red tile roof, is one of our family, Mausha
V…
We were too late. The pogrom erupted that very night, suddenly, like an exploding mine, and in my own neighborhood.
The first screams came to me confused, in a hazy dream. Then it dawned on me what…