Some Day
Published in Issue #12 Translated from Hebrew by Yardenne Greenspan(Excerpt from a Novel)
subscribe to unlock the full story
Two seven-year-olds lie on the roof. A boy and a girl. The boy is Shlomi, the girl is Ella. They lie among the water boilers and watch a dead body being pulled out through a window.
This is the moment when Shlomi’s mind begins transcribing.
He transcribes sharp and obscure pictures; writes and collects pleasant aromas and nauseating ones; things that had been and things that were just hatching. Shards of speech and tweets of tears and rustles of laughter and screeches of breath pile up alongside fumes of rage and tight waves of longing. And endless words.
Piles of words.
Before, his head was a puddle of water. Now the puddle is seeping and its few remaining drops are replaced by the details of this picture. It is transcribed so deeply that even if someone shook his head and memories escaped through his ears and scattered in the air of his life, even then, like the sun, like the dawn, it would keep rising each day, never diminishing —
The two of them on the scorching roof.
He, barely breathing.
The haze already piercing his lungs, turning his voice into a whisper.
She, lying at his side, tightly against his body.
Her lips are violently pursed and tears run down her face. They both look down, to the yard trapped between buildings.
*
Shlomi also looks to the sides. Around them are many small black chunks his mom once referred to as “probably mouse poop, the mice are running around above my head,” and immediately shouted at Shlomi’s father, “When...
Subscribe now to keep reading
Please enter your email to log in or create a new account.