Profane

Profane

I hadn't noticed that one of the members had brought his eight-year-old son to Torah study. If I had, would the word "fucking" have come flying out of my mouth when I was expressing outrage at something the president had tweeted that morning?

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Mirror, Mirror

Mirror, Mirror

"I love your wrinkles," she said; the expression on her face confirming sincerity.

"I do, too," I said. At first, I was taken aback by her declaration. After all, it wasn't my haircut she was complimenting, or my outfit, but a patchwork of lines on my face that are more often reviled than admired.

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