Iron
Published in Issue #22 Translated from Hebrew by Or Sachaf(Excerpt from a Novel)
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Blood
When Ilan clears away the dishes from the table I stay seated and watch him. After discarding the leftover mashed potatoes and fish bones into the bin in the corner, he puts the dishes in the sink. When he turns on the tap a gentle waft rises from my stomach, a second that lasts eons; like a stone that whistles on its fall into a well, and then goes mute after hitting the water.
Ilan, with his back to me, keeps talking about something that happened at work. But I can’t remember anymore who said what to whom and what they were so angry about and what petition they signed. And when he says, “Do me a favor, Yardena, give me a hand with the glasses,” I feel like he just woke me up from a dream.
He stands before me with soapy hands. Behind him, the flow of the hot water is steaming, as though someone put a piping-hot stone in the sink. I notice the glasses that have slipped down on his nose and only then realize what he wants from me. I snap out of my daydreaming and get up to push his eyeglasses back up.
“Are you okay?” he asks, studying me with his beautiful eyes from behind the lenses. I respond “Why?” And he says, “Don’t know, a shadow just passed across your face,” and I say, “What are you babbling about?” and kiss the tip of his nose. He turns back and puts his hands into the...
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