My piece Reethe Cupth is now up at Winamop.
1972. Fourth grade.
Every Wednesday, after school, I car-pooled across town to this tenement Hebrew school in Cincinnati with my sister and two other sets of local children we couldn’t stand, the Siegels and the Lipschitz’. Karen Lipschitz was the worst human alive. Incredibly mean. She was twelve and stocky and had this big blonde permy afro, and wore grandmother clothes and Coke-bottle glasses. She looked like Little Orphan Annie’s mutant twin. And I had a bad lisp at the time and she would tease me, mercilessly.
And one day, at the religious school canteen…