Perhaps People Ought To Feel With More

He Sits In His Car At Traffic Lights On His Way Out Sometimes And Tries To Estimate How Many Times He Has Sat Here, Waiting At These Traffic Lights On His Way Somewhere Without You, Hoping To Meet Someone With The Capacity To Consign You To An Anecdote, To Be Eventually Confused With Others

It's Like The Smell Of Burned Toast. You Made The Toast. You Looked Forward To It. You Even Enjoyed Making It, But It Burned. What Were You Doing? Was It Your Fault? It Doesn't Matter Anymore. You Open The Window, But Only The Very Top Layer Of The Smell Goes Away. The Rest Remains Around You. It's The Walls. You Leave The Room, But It's On Your Clothes. You Change Your Clothes, But It's In Your Hair. It's On The Thin Skin On The Tops Of Your Hand. And In The Morning, It's Still There.

Why Did I Start With Them? Why Do Any Of Us Choose One Company Over Another As An Employer? The Money? At The Beginning They All Offer More Or Less The Same And No One Know How It Will Go After That. I Guess It Is Often Not So Much Your Prospects At A Particular Firm, Because These Are Essentially Unknowable, But Whether People Will Think You Have Done Well To Get The Job There, That Determines You Choice. That Was Largely It In My Case. It Was Really The Prestige. They Gave Good Letterhead.

Combine A Left-leaning Upbringing With A Family With Direct Experience Of The Holocaust And Someone With Aspirations To Write And I Guess, Sooner Or Later, That Person Will Have A Stab At Writing Something About The Holocaust.

As My Name Might Suggest, I'm Jewish. My Grandparents Were Polish And Russian Jews Who Came To Australia In The Late 1920s, And Had They Not, We Wouldn't Be Talking Now.