Fiction

Asher got up, walked into his bedroom and returned with a bottle of wine and a mischievous grin. He was offering sex. For the Steins, sex was a tradeoff. This time he wanted to attend one of Dr. Feinberg’s conventions in Monsey.
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He has not spoken to his wife in four days. This is tolerable. After 38 years of her mounting nervous energy, a little peace and quiet is not unpleasant.
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Now I see those penises every day between takes, soft core porn thinly veiled as reality TV. The lie I once wore on my head, the velvet yarmulke, has been replaced by a 2010 spring line Versace fedora.
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“Oh, fuck this,” I said. “Let’s go sin then.” He grinned. “Just do it a couple times, it’ll feel natural. Like they say, ‘Transgress, repeat, yada, yada.’”
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I shall give thee a corner office, with a nubile maiden to attend to thy needs -- secretarial matters only, verily. Beware unto thee, lest thine eyes wander to her bosom and I shall smite thee and banish thee back to page 7 of the Job.com listings.
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Isabel is now afraid. The man takes her to his house. Maybe he will call her Papi to come pick her up, but it has been so long and she is feeling hungry.
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A new design for Pepsi bottle caps affects gameplay at the shtiebel.
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Two paths diverge in the woods.
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A young boy eavesdrops on a man's confession to his Rabbi.
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Can you ever go home again? Baila visits her family and makes one last effort to reconnect with a world that was once hers.