The Fathoms By Amanda Korman Winter 2015 Underwater, I opened my eyes. Bubbles moved like abacus beads across the hairs between my legs. “You stay down there longer than the other women,” said Penina Sussman, who was watching me from the tile when I emerged. She held out a towel. 0 Comments
Masters of Return By David Caplan Summer 2009 Unlike the men there, I wore a yarmulke. I explained my situation to the waiter behind the counter, asking if I could take a bottle of water and pay him back the next day. He firmly said no. 0 Comments
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