Summer Honey

How Zohara Balaban managed to find the two security prisoners from the district jail to take the place of her husband at night, God only knows. But it really happened, we were right there in the room, me and the three others, ‘inmates’ they called us, with our hair washed and combed we lay in our beds, drowning in Zohara’s intoxicating scents, and trying to stifle our giggles, but they refused to be stifled. Zohara’s recovering thighs writhed like a couple of cobras, and together with them the bedsprings danced, mattresses were tossed in the storm, walls were scratched, moans rose in the air and grunts broke out of the depths of our stomachs. Yes, we were all there with her when she took off, and honey dropped on us from the sky.

Before Zohara arrived, that institution was the dreariest place you ever met. And I – still almost a child, with the blue pajama pants turned up three times, so they wouldn’t drag on the floor. When I saw myself for the first time in the head nurse’s room I said: All you need is a helmet with a little antenna, and you can fly straight to the moon. The head nurse tested me to see if I was at least a little suitable for the world, and I, who had already spent time in a few such places during the course of my short life, was sure that I knew the questions.

            For instance, if they ask you what would you...