14

Judith puts in her favourite tape, Israel at Forty. She listens to a line or two of "The Honey and the Bee Sting"

16m read

Once upon a bone-dry July afternoon, a solitary pack peddler by the name of Pinchas Pinsker came down the road.

21m read

Tankilevich rang the bell to be admitted into the Hesed and waited for some time for a response.

18m read

My father calls to me from the other end of the apartment, his voice thin and urgent.

28m read

The back window in Rabbi Schwartzman's office looked out at his students—and, he believed, their hearts

32m read

On the third day into the war, the first rocket landed in Beersheva. People equipped themselves

30m read Translated from Hebrew by Anati Bloch

My cousin Marty Godsick had a heart attack last Wednesday. They brought him into the ER at Mt. Sinai

12m read

The first time Herschel Lefletsky's suspicions were aroused was the day that the scribe from Dubno came

49m read

Shortly before my eighteenth birthday my mother Luna passed away.

37m read Translated from Hebrew by Dalya Bilu

Daniel finally fell asleep. Despite the shaking of the bus, despite his neighboursʼ animated conversations

19m read Translated from French by Kathryn Gabinet-Kroo

You'd think a story like this would have spread by word of mouth, whispered in stairwells or bedrooms

30m read Translated from Hebrew by Sondra Silverston

Eve looks up from her task. There is an eerie quiet all about her. For a brief moment, she closes her eyes

27m read

Aunt Masha was furious when Uncle Eli, a furniture seller by profession, spilled wine on the white tablecloth

50m read

The paper posted on the peeling elevator wall featured a portrait of an old man with large glasses

29m read

The phone call came on Sunday evening; there was no hello. "I'm dying," Brownstein said.

23m read

Behind me, the city of Tsfat nestles into the neighboring mountain. The kabbalists say that the Holy One

22m read

Lying flat on the grass where the table would be, I gazed at the criss-crossed wooden slats, cornstalks

28m read

When I was seven or eight and my grandfather was about the age I am now, he told me this story:

17m read

Wedged like a rolled carpet in the back seat of the Dodge, Appleman watches as the first moon of summer rises

44m read