The Mezuzah Eaters_When Life's Direction is Determined by Others_Mali's year_Tried and Truan
Catalog Guide:
The Mezuzah Eaters
The last time Aviva Zwetschkenstiel owned a mezuzah was when she had slid a matchbox-sized one right up her long-sleeved admiral blue hoodie as she strolled down the open-air markets in Jerusalem. She had purposefully distanced herself from her peers. Eight days later, she found her mother throwing lavender seeds around the garden, and handed her the mezuzah with a slight grin.“Thank you! It’s exactly what I wanted,” screeched her mother, and then in a single motion, she flipped it over to whack the Hebrew letter shin against her palm, picked out the klaf with her lengthy ruby nails, crumpled ...
When Life's Direction is Determined by Others
In the back of the duce and a half, mud-covered truck sat twelve members of Able company of the Third Infantry Division. They are tired, dirty, hwww.onedoor.ccungry, and need a shower. One of the tired and dirty GIs is Stanley Dombrowski, a draftee from the south side of Chicago. This group is returning from a ten-day skirmish with Charlie in a delta rice patty. Stan is not only returning from the battle but is returning from his yearlong tour of duty in Nam. He had just survived the last of what had been many such battles in the past year. Lying in leech-infested rice patties, where the only cover is the s...
Mali's year
A grey sky looked down on the grey ground. As far as the eye could see, everything was grey. A treacherous muddy river made countless bends between its banks. At Harry's bend, the water was constantly churned by the heavy wheel of a mill, scarred by storms and the sun, in the same desolate colors as its sad surroundings. On a cliff above, a dozen unfenced houses stood in a group. All day, all night, day after day the mill pounded with maddening monotony. In the summer, the sun blistered and burned the whole valley, and in the winter the wind moaned incessantly. The sky was quiet today. The sun...
Tried and Truant
Karina leaned against her window, the cool glass refreshing amid the heat building inside her; watched the elms lining the sidewalks whip by; and contemplated a jump out her door at forty miles per hour. Surely, it would prove less painful than what otherwise awaited her.She had promised herself that she wouldn’t do it again—that she would take whatever Elle dished out. She had gotten through the morning, but then Elle, surrounded by her omnipresent cloud of minions, had bumped into her in the lunch line, spilling chocolate milk all over the white blouse she’d spent a month sewing. Though sur...