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Whatever happened to me on that day seemed to urge me to muster up all my courage and hope. When the ship approached the harbor of Jaffa, many people were there to meet us…
Arab Halva—moist, sticky, fibrous. The taste tears across my lips like a memory. Within me Jaffa stirs, wakens from sleep; eyes and faces of Jaffa.
I am there, it is afternoon, a city half-awake…