Fiction // Three Dreams
Fiction // How Beautiful Are Your Tents, O Jacob?
Fiction // The Goose Girl
Fiction | Calculated Moves
So troubling was the dream, and so restless was he as a result, that he stayed in bed longer than usual.
Fiction | Why Is There a Buddhist at this Seder?
On the evening of the first Passover seder, traffic on the Long Island Expressway heading east into the suburbs was massive, slow-moving and maddening, just as Martin Weissman expected.
Fiction | Polonaise
The music of Chopin brings together a mysterious young Hungarian Holocaust survivor and an American music student. But just when romance is in the air, he vanishes.
Fiction | Private
Today, another of my usual jogs—the thousandth step of a thousandth run, every run varied enough to include something new.
Fiction | The Man Who Sold Air in the Holy Land
Simcha was the man who sold air from the Holy Land, not to be confused with those unimaginative con artists who sold oil from the Oily Land or water from the Dead Sea.
Fiction | Call Me Gefilte
His children relocated him from the small Greenwich Village apartment where he and his late wife, Susan, had raised their family, to the Scarsdale Sinai Home, for a short time on the assisted living unit and then to the Alzheimer’s floor.
Fiction | The Anniversary Camera
I learned photography from the streetcar man. “Windows to life,” Mr. Stilson had professed. “Humanity on paper.”
Fiction | What If I’ve Changed My Mind?
Sometimes I’m scared I’ll call my surviving daughter by her sister’s name, Becky, the one who was lost, when Talia is the one who’s still here.