Essays, nonfiction, and short fiction.
Bubbe’s Shaynekeit
Eli shook the wooden box. Each dull thump vibrated soundlessly into his fingertips, and it grew warmer with each impact. It had severe half-blind dovetail joinery but was accented with three iron nails on all four corners. Eli rubbed his thumbs over the nails, cold in contrast with the warm wood. The iron mortised lock wasn’t originally part of the box. It was hammered in with claw-like nails bent inward around the edges that dug into the box. Above the keyhole, carved and painted red, was אגלא.
MISTER GEORGE
Marta bends down to scrutinize the rubbish at her feet. From a distance, the Box Tops for Education look like an exploded piñata stuffed into a shoe box. Up close, each one is evenly cut with a faded yellow and blue boarder. Mister George asked her not to throw them away. He’s been saving them for the Forest Hill Elementary fundraiser and every cent counts. Oona, his oldest daughter, hasn’t gone to the school in decades and her own children go to Dwight-Englewood Academy, an expensive private school north of their grandfather’s house. Marta empties the shoebox into an extra large Ziplock bag and sets it aside.