Elul zeman was here, and with it, a renewed resolve to show up to seder on time every day
“Ani yesheinah v’libi eir, kol dodi dofeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeik….” Yonah stopped singing into his coffee mug when he saw Estee wrapped in a blanket on the couch, white as a ghost.
“Sorry, Est, didn’t see you there. How you doing?”
She looked at him miserably, eyes huge.
He felt a rush of helplessness. “Okay, better question, what can I do for you?”
She leaned her head back and moaned. “Nothing. There is nothing that makes me feel better.”
This one’s in print. Some of our best stories live in the magazine — subscribe to get Mishpacha every week.
