Fiction

Waiting

by Ted Roberts

September 12, 2009

As in every construct in G-d’s world, there are only two sides.  So it is with the Cosmos - not only stars, constellations, and galaxies, but the Divine mind we call the universe.  One side lived like us; suffering, exalting, hoping, dreaming.  In my villiage, they tell the story of Israel, the kite flyer, who lived a mile or two down the road towards Vlank. A nice stroll from the Shtetle.

Closing Doors

by Linda J. Goldberg

May 19, 2009

At last, the sun shone through the blue gray sky. Bessie fastened her glasses squarely onto her nose and remembered the phone call from her son Harry. “Come next week for the High Holidays. We all want you to come.” Bessie pictured Harry’s dark bushy eyebrows frowning as she said, “I’ll let you know.”

We all want you to come reverberated in her ears as she remembered the days when she entertained the family for the holidays. She spent the week setting the table with her Israeli hand-woven red tablecloth, her mother’s Russian wine glasses, and her grandmother’s silver candlesticks. For almost fifty years her husband Sam had reminded her to “Clean my Pa’s brass samovar so we can use it for tea.”

The Parade

by Martin Lindauer

Shmuel crowed with obvious pride. "Our boy is the first in the family to graduate from college--and the first to be an officer of the United States Army of America."

"And a Jewish officer, too," Ruchel beamed.

"Our boy is a real American," Shmuel said with matching fervor.

A son with a Lieutenant’s commission in the Army of their adopted country was well worth the five-hour bus trip from Brooklyn to Fort Evans, Massachusetts. Ruchel and Shmuel, impressed by the official invitations to attend officer’s boot camp graduation, stamped with the engraved seals of the United States Army and the Department of Defense, sent off their acceptance letter the day the announcement was received.

HAMSA

by Nina Schneider

On Ben Yehuda Street, you can get anything you want:  a meal, jewelry, fine wine, pastry, a lover, a fabulous haircut.  Six days a week, except for Shabbat, I work in my shop, Salon Yosi, next to the Cafe Rimon.  I like to watch people walk by, each with a story to tell, as I perform my magic with scissors and a brush.  Everyone in Israel knows this pedestrian mall in the heart of downtown Jerusalem—a few blocks outside the Old City walls--with upscale rents for shopkeepers like me.  Think Boston’s stylish Newbury Street, without the traffic, and add the random terror attack.  We live in the moment, I constantly reassure my nervous parents in Boston.  “Yeah, Ma, me and the girls, we never take the bus.”

ECHOD

July 11, 2008

by Hugh Fox

Feeling Friday after noon begin to run down into holiness, aiming the laser beam on her cornea, goofy disease, presumably the reaction of the body to a fungus generated by leaves, earth, dog-stuff...so that the eye began to devour itself. She was lucky, if the lesion had ruptured and bled into the eye, at least at the present state of the art, she would have gone blind.

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