Magic
Published in Issue #17 Translated from Hebrew by Dalya Bilu subscribe to unlock the full storyEzra Salim’s steps grew smaller and smaller as the ascent from Yosef-marrows to felafel-Shalom grew longer and steeper. The two handles of his shopping baskets were covered in white cloth which had turned into filthy rags and the handles cut his hands and dragged him down. The weight of the baskets and the heaviness of his legs reminded him that old age had already caught up with him.
He made his way up the main street of the Mahaneh Yehuda market to his house in one of the alleys of Nahlaot, burdened with the baskets of fruit and vegetables which had all been purchased in obedience to the strict orders of his wife Salima. These orders had all been written in trembling letters on a piece of paper she found in the kitchen and put in his hands, and next to every item he bought he wrote a crooked mark with the pencil she had tied to his pocket, so that he would not, God forbid, get mixed up between what he had bought and not bought, and also so that he would not buy produce he had not been asked to bring. At the end of every line Salima had added the name of the owner of the stall – for example, tomatoes from Shlomo on the corner, marrows from Yosef – because in her opinion it was only there that the vegetables in question were worth buying; and she did not state amounts or numbers, since hundreds of Fridays...
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