TE15 Lithuanian Honey Cake
I didn’t see him for a week. My neighbor from Nr. 10 saw him yesterday and said: HE hasn’t changed.
It’s strange. I’ve never seen the first floor neighbors’ child. Maybe he doesn’t exist.
Doorbell. I open the door. The old building dwellers are standing there: “We are gathering on the second floor by the sixth flat. For what? I go down. Almost everyone is there: Nr. 10 – she always gets everywhere first. The old building dwellers (o. b. d.) – they’re the ones who invited me over. I had just moved in – after two weeks they came with matzos. “You baked them yourselves?” I ask. “No, frum Israeel,” they say, “If you like, ve bring moore.” Un-jewish, somehow.
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