Go and find a father for your child.

Though food may fail to broker communication, this is often one of its major supposed roles.

Israeli cuisine is a mystery, a black hole, a utopia.

Where are they? It's late.

Comics themselves have a role to play in the construction of a more globally aware social consciousness.

Yiddish literature occupies the precarious position of an informed outsider.

Him I believe, even if he is Polish.

Now you’ll be our daughter a little bit too.

The narrative threads that weave through the last ten years tell a tale in themselves.

It parachuted down.

The appeal of the Queer Issue is in seeing that great ambition writ small, in discovering the swarm of details and experience that cohere into the big picture of world writing.

Do you know anyone who died in the army?

They reached the streetlight every time, except once.

It's actually nice to talk to strangers.

“Adolf, it's you, I didn't recognize you at first without the ridiculous mustache.”

They plumb in crude terms the physical attributes of her desired but unobtainable physique.

I wanted the daughter who quit doing drugs cold turkey, at age ten.

Only then they discovered that underneath the man were two giant eggs.

My father-in-law, Feibush, arrived unannounced at my doorstep in the middle of the week.

During the twilight hours of one day in January, the professor and his wife arrived at a small motel on the beach at Islamorada

I climbed aboard the Little No. 5 as I did every morning on my way to work.

The graphic novel Farm 54 brings together three semi-autobiographical stories from the childhood, puberty, and early adulthood (military service years) of its female protagonist, growing up in Israel’s…

Now he’s cold and he doesn’t believe it and he’s crying.

They returned…

The old dog lumbers beside me, exhaling and inhaling laboriously and tracking my steps with her bowed head turned white with old age.

The village rocked tranquilly upon the waves, up and down, creating a strange sensation.

A few simple descriptions would suffice to understand just how rich and strange an artwork Waltz with Bashir truly is: an animated documentary film

I don't blame my parents for what happened next, they had enough troubles.

So what is the moment? What does it look like?

My only son has a soul mate I'm not fond of.

Now was the time to ask for a recommendation from David.

. . . then the sun began to set.

On my first day, I was overcome with dread.

Who, these days, hasn't woken from a dream of murdering an angel?

Herzl Haliwa lets out a scream and jerks his head from the pillow in alarm.

Where does Mrs. Simona go at night? Where are her feet taking her?

When I grow old, in however many three-month intervals, I'll gain more and more disabilities, cognitive and otherwise.

Naturally, he didn't say a word to his troops about the stupidity of their superior officers.

It would be madness to delude himself into believing that Maria and the boy were still alive.

Mordechai is a simple person, like tens of thousands of others in Tel Aviv (though he would insist that there are few like him there).

If you were told: you're going to die here this evening What would you do in the remaining time?

But the rababa is a naked, homeless instrument, and that is why, like beggars who do not have a rababa, the man used a standard tool for panhandling, a plastic plate.

-1-How oftendid I go in the morning to Thursday’smarket. I bought our house supplies,and chose an orchid and mailed the letters.A rain made me wet and filled me with the scent of oranges.Did you…

She grows old, my friend, outside the heart / in others' eyes.

People died for a bit of cabbage, I escalated.

Good, Dudi said and hurried to take down Grandma's funny message. He found a blank space on the page and drew Bambi. He'd look at the drawing and remember Grandma's message.

This interview appeared in slightly different form in Keys to the Garden: New Israeli Writing, edited and translated by Ammiel Alcalay (San Francisco: City Lights, 1996).Ammiel Alcalay: Starting with…

How can one explain that which goes beyond logic? In the dream I was asked to read something and I couldn't.