Issue 32

When the young man from Broadway came to town and built factories, young and old, large and small came from the surrounding hills looking for work.   (more...)

Europe becomes a room. The same room. Cramped and cold and dark as a cave.   (more...)

There is a box of Holocaust hidden under my grandmother’s sink. I hear it every day, at lunch time, when she stands over the stove holding a large wooden ladle   (more...)

“Sometimes I feel the need to pray to God, to cross myself, to plead,” she whispered. And immediately, as if dismissing an involuntary intrusive thought   (more...)

“May onions grow from his belly button!” Fania stood in the doorway. Her hat was wilted, her eyes were wild, her skirts spattered with mud.   (more...)

Lily stared into the mirror in her office washroom checking her makeup. Who was she, this woman? The more she lived, the less she knew.   (more...)

At first, Rabbi Moses Glitski had a hard time understanding exactly how the Zoom meetings worked. When he stared directly at the little rectangle on the screen   (more...)

The rabbi calls to ask how many chairs you will need. You hold the phone against your chest and turn to your brother to ask   (more...)

When she, all large eyes and frail bones, arrived, a man in uniform helped her onto the dock and asked her in Yiddish, “Vi iz ayer nomen?”   (more...)

Not too long ago in the shtetl of Astoria, Queens, a woman walked energetically around her apartment.   (more...)

It is late the next day when the news reaches them. When the doorbell rings, Hannah admits the air force officer and distractedly calls out to Gadi, her husband   (more...)

“Hakshivu, hakshivu!” The wake-up call blasts through the loudspeaker, shattering Beth’s dreams. Cold New Hampshire air bites her nose.   (more...)