The Wondering Workshop

Israeli authors and poets creating in English

Author Archive

Salad Dressing

The oil and water don’t mix. Not after I pour the liquids, not after I stir it with a fork , not even after the fifth time I shake the cup. Eventually I give up and pour it as it is into the salad better viagra or levitra and vigorously mix the lettuce with the […]

Read the rest of this entry »

Egg Salad

I wipe off the rest of the egg salad from the plate and let it drop into the trash can, just a few minutes after she leaves. That’s the way it is. You can’t tell someone that you don’t like something after they told you that it’s their best dish, especially not after they took […]

Read the rest of this entry »

The Morning After

I open my eyes and stretch in the pre dawn light. Last night is still a blur and this morning hasn’t officially started yet. I turn on my side and see her on the floor, leaning with her back against the bed. Images of last night are rushing to my head. I toss a pillow, […]

Read the rest of this entry »

Back to Thursday Morning

Looking back, I wonder. If I could go back to Thursday morning, before all this mess and give myself just one advice or warning. What would I say? I won’t waste such an opportunity on something as banal as telling myself I should sleep at my place rather then yours because I know that the […]

Read the rest of this entry »

On Ellsinore’s Beach

On that summer’s day, we were playing make believe. Pretending to be Hamlet and Ophelia with mock grieve. We gave names to the approaching clouds and drizzle, This one’s “shaped like a camel” and “methinks, it is like a weasel”. I reached for your hand and you, frightened with false fire, preferred a flowery swim […]

Read the rest of this entry »

Too Much Drama

“Aren’t we too old for these dramas?” She asks. “We are not in high school anymore”. I should say “you’re right” or “no we’re not” but all I can say is “You’re old enough to recognize the same old dramas. But you’re too young to know how fucking dull it is to live without them”.

Read the rest of this entry »

Concerto for Violin, Violence and Velociraptor in C minor

I entered the room as Johannes closed the violin case. My eyes surveyed the room for potential threats as Johannes went about his rituals of closing the lids and sorting the music sheets that lay on the table. When he was done he walked to the liquor cabinet and uncapped some bottle that was obviously […]

Read the rest of this entry »

Come a Day of Reckoning

One day we shell rise leaving fragmented sentences to flood the page ’till the mismatched words overflow the margins.

Read the rest of this entry »

“We Need To Talk”

Actant is described as tired but smiling. The elaborate description of his eyes meeting those of Subject of Desire is indicative of the tension between them. The setting moves into the scene: The large windows that expose them to the street, symbolic background sounds and the large wooden table that sets them apart. There is […]

Read the rest of this entry »

Taking the fall

His lips. Only when His lips touch my brow. Only then I feel like a man. Only then I feel that this is heaven and that these gentle kisses are the only things that create me in His image. When the stolen moments of our love are at their end He wipes the tears from […]

Read the rest of this entry »