by Gail Hosking

I always begin telling anyone who asks about my mother with the images I have memorized. She is wearing her favorite cork sandals that she bought in an open-air Italian market while on vacation with my father, a life-long soldier. She stands under a sign for Milan and Genoa, and later near a rock wall with grapevines behind her as my father takes her picture.

by Caroline Igra

10

Riots on the Temple Mount. I’ve been there. Once. Before I was Israeli. My memories are hazy, blurred by the dust and glitter of that sparkly dome.

by Kathleen Tighe

“War is like love. It always finds a way.” —Bertolt Brecht

One afternoon during a rare visit home, my son Chris sauntered into the kitchen carrying a gas mask encased in a jungle green knapsack.