{"product_id":"2940150810273","title":"Silver \u0026 Gold","description":"After the Dust by Eleanor Kos\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZev looked around his brother's apartment. Bare walls, clean swept floor. A picture of the two of them was stuck to the fridge with a magnet from the local pizza place.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe rabbi shifted his weight and cleared his throat but didn't speak. He was a small, round man, younger than Zev felt a rabbi should be.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Where did it happen?\" Zev asked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"On the way to work,\" the rabbi said. \"An accident on the beltway. They didn't tell you this?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I was on a flight back from Afghanistan. He was supposed to meet me at the airport.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe'd gone outside to wait in the cold, annoyed when he didn't see Beni's battered blue Toyota. And then he'd turned his phone back on and listened to the voicemail.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe rabbi put a hand on his shoulder, but Zev stepped away. He didn't know this man. He didn't know anyone in Beni's life anymore.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Will you sit shiva for him? There are people who would sit with you.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"I don't want to be with strangers.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"They weren't strangers to him.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"They are to me,\" Zev said shortly. He breathed in, breathed out, watched dust particles in a wash of sunlight from the window. The sun was weak here compared to the Afghan hills. It left him homesick for the simplicity of combat.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If you stay here,\" the rabbi said carefully, \"they will come to you. At least to visit. To speak of him.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZev nodded. He supposed he couldn't stop them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Your family?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Our parents died when we were in high school. Distant relatives in Israel. In Safed. I don't have an address.\" He'd have to find them. Somehow. He rubbed his hands over his face, palms catching on stubble, more than usually aware of the deep lines the last few years had carved into his skin.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"If you give me names, I can try to find them.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZev turned to him, with his struggling beard and serious face and eyes that never strayed from Zev's, no matter how many times Zev looked away from him, no matter how uncomfortable the conversation became. Beni must've liked him.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Thank you,\" he said stiffly. He wrote down the names in a notebook that the rabbi produced from his shirt pocket. A few minutes later, he was alone.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe looked through Beni's kitchen cabinets and found them well stocked. The fridge held lettuce and cabbage, carrots and radishes and homemade chicken soup. Beni had always been the cook in the family. He'd taken over with no discussion when their parents died, dinner waiting when Zev came home from his second of two after-school jobs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eZev took the bowl of chicken soup out and set it on the counter. He imagined Beni chopping onion and carrots and garlic. He saw himself eating bowl after bowl until the last thing Beni would ever cook was gone. He put it back in the fridge.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA Corgi Named Kilowatt by C.C. Bridges\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEvan stared at the pack of papers the department secretary--Judy, or maybe Jane?--shoved at his chest, a dawning horror creeping down the back of his neck. \"But I'm supposed to teach Comp I.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Right, and you still are.\" She pushed the stack harder. \"You're Professor Leaverman's TA, and she's out with the stomach flu--\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Gross.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"--so you need to take her classes this morning. It's the first day of the semester, and I don't have time for this.\" She let go of the papers, and Evan had to catch them to avoid strewing syllabi across the office floor.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBefore he even had time to catch his breath, another student took his place, pulling the secretary's attention away. He backed up, knocked into someone, and apologized before slipping out of the crowded office.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eEvan braced himself against the wall of the hallway and glanced down at the syllabus. Intro to Poetry? Something in his belly flipped at that. It was the kind of more advanced class he hadn't expected to be allowed to teach until much later in his PhD program.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHe might have entertained fantasies of himself sweeping into a lecture hall, the flaps of his coat fluttering behind him like a cape, as he commanded the attention of every single student in the room. With a sentence, he enraptured them. As he completed the poem, he ensnared them. By the end of the class, they were his.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe flutter of the papers brought his attention back to the present, and Evan finally noticed the class start time. 9:30 a.m. That left him--he checked his watch--fifteen minutes to trek to the Kestrel building on the other side of campus. Hardly enough time to become familiar with the syllabus before presenting it to the class.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Calm down, it's no big deal.\" He shoved the copies into his messenger bag and took a moment to straighten his tie. At least he'd dressed for success today, wearing what he'd taken to calling his 'professor uniform': pressed white Oxford shirt, pale blue tie, and khaki slacks. Part of him wanted to go for it","brand":"Less Than Three Press, LLC","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":47122828525808,"sku":"2940150810273","price":5.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":true}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/0737\/7593\/9824\/files\/2940150810273_p0.jpg?v=1763753278","url":"https:\/\/shop-qa.barnesandnoble.com\/products\/2940150810273","provider":"Barnes \u0026 Noble (DEV)","version":"1.0","type":"link"}