The Womanly Art of Tucking In
March 17th 2011 Thursday, March 17
I wake up just before daybreak. I imagine that I am a child again, waking to the mournful sound of a Vancouver foghorn. I fall back into a restless sleep, and this time imagine that I am living in a small town in northern Israel, listening to the Arab junk dealers coming down the lane. "Alterzachen!" they call out in Yiddish, which is pretty funny, if you stop to think about
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