I am the only one alone on this train,watching families cluster, friends laugh.Mile Post Seventy-Two slides past the window,avalanche protection standing guard. Morning haze from last night’s forest firescents the air like distant campfires.I missed the bus downtown yesterday—another small journey undertaken alone. It seems like old times:everyone else, and me. Not lonely, not ecstatic, […]
Kinder, I was her child until childhood grew teeth
she was mine Bubbe until memory learned hunger
my little town swallows itself along the river
while moss grows backwards into time
Joy radiates through my entire body like electricity. Sparks travel from my core to my fingertips in waves of pure, unfiltered delight.
A few words by the author: Brill’s Hidden in Plain Sight is not a conventional Holocaust memoir; rather, it is an act of literary cartography – mapping the landscapes of exile, inherited trauma, and historical erasure. She takes readers on a journey through Belgrade, where her family’s history is embedded in its streets and architecture, and where memory itself is both visible and hidden in the spaces between past and present.
Haiku Hike He woke me at 4. We shared Ramadan’s first meal. Texas stars watched close.
James laced a telephone cord around his mother’s neck and pulled until he asphyxiated her.
Want to listen to the article? Great–listen here! When I was 21, I discovered Chautauqua Institution during a summer stay in a family cottage belonging to my sister’s boyfriend’s mother. My sister and I lived as residents in the charming summer home in upstate New York, part of the tradition where properties pass through families. We were […]
Want to listen to the article? Great–listen here! When I was 21, I discovered Chautauqua Institution during a summer stay in a family cottage belonging to my sister’s boyfriend’s mother. My sister and I lived as residents in the charming summer home in upstate New York, part of the tradition where properties pass through families. We were […]
Bubbe wrapped me in a towel, baked in the Arizona sun, draping herself in the same green-ratted robe she’d worn since my first memory.
Want to listen to the article? Great–listen here! I cherished watching I Love Lucy with my Bubbe, lying side by side on her shag carpet as matzoh ball soup lingered in the air. Those evenings with Lucy’s polka dots and my grandmother’s love have stayed with me always. And why I wanted to experience “I love Lucy” […]