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Gaza Stories

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Jameela

Me? I died with Omar.

"Jameela" Three in the morning The shuffle of Rezek’s feet wake her from her thoughts, Not that she was really sleeping. Who can sleep with so much to worry about? Her husband’s pillow is empty. Soon Yousef will come to visit us, My husband’s friend from madrasa. These days Yousef is a big-time commander in Hamas. He will ask about Rezek. Why isn’t he in madrasa like the other boys, he’ll ask, But he’ll mean why isn’t he...

Rezek

Rezek has no time for dreams

"Rezek" Three in the morning Jupiter stares through a crack in the ceiling And Rezek has no time for dreams. He gets out of bed fully dressed And walks barefoot to the porch Where his father pours him a small cup Of scalding bittersweet coffee Which he blows on and sips quickly Slips on his shoes and runs through the night To his uncle’s bakery. Rezek works the furnace and the dough-cutter Eleven hours a day and is lucky...

Something Happened

Charlie was beginning to feel pretty mellow when he saw the air in front of him waver.

Charlie Jones attended a party of friends and acquaintances in one of the trendy studio apartments near Washington Square on the lower east side of Manhattan. Charlie brought some beer, one of the girls brought wine. Someone brought some hash and someone else brought some acid to get high on the music. One of the guys rolled a mixture of Cherry Blend pipe tobacco and hashish into a clumsy fat cigarette held together by sp...