Fiction

By Esther Rapaport   Chaiky answered the ringing phone. “Hello?” “Is this the Struk family?” a girlish voice asked. “Yes, it is.” “You’re Dovi’s mother, right?” “Right.” Chaiky raised an eyebrow and took a bobby...

  By Esther Rapaport At the nurses’ station in Pediatrics, there wasn’t a moment of quiet. Doctors passed by, giving instructions and comments; parents or children came and asked for things....

By Esther Rapaport “Miri, do you have paper clips?” Elka was in a big hurry. “No, not those small colorful ones—the big metal ones. Do you have any?” Miri opened another...

  “Ima!” Naomi ran over to Chaiky as soon as she walked through the door. “Great, you bought the oil! Dovi and I went out of the kitchen and closed...

By Esther Rapaport The children fidgeted excitedly near the counter. It was no wonder; when was the last time they had seen their mother take out the mixer? Eight eggs,...

By Esther Rapaport “Hello, Menachem?” “Yes.” Menachem immediately identified the voice of Yoel Brodsky. “How are you, Yoel? Is everything okay with Dovi? We heard that you drove them back last...

By Esther Rapaport The newspaper editor subtly fixed his gaze on a detailed work of art that depicted Napoleon’s final battle in Russia. But when the silence grew prolonged, he...

By Esther Rapaport Antonovich cleared his throat. “First of all, I’m happy that I have the opportunity to personally apologize to you, sir,” he began, trying not to look behind...

By Esther Rapaport The watchtower that soared to the fifth floor of Nikolai Rosenberg’s estate was designed to elegantly blend into the scene. It looked like another architectural adornment on...

By Esther Rapaport The curtain was pulled aside again. Gently, this time. “Excuse me.” Rachel’s smiling face peeked through the slit. “I just wanted to ask: Did you eat already?” “Yes, dear....