Was it the bomb or the daughter that came first? The vow and a promise to fig trees and ripe lemons, brown pools of sugared dates, my father’s eyes burned with memories of air raids. A ceasefire buried in...
Three Pieces by Cameron Vanderwerf
Philanthropy We began having nightmares of rundown, underheated apartments. We dreamed vividly of hunger, of fatigue, of exhausting jobs with long hours. Our sleeping hours were filled every night with endless visions...