A Short Story: The Story Of Edith Goldberg's Story

1949 Words8 Pages
The room was hot with body heat and outside air seeping in through the thin walls, the smell of sweat hovered over everyone as they lay on the floor. If someone coughed or snored everybody could hear it, the next room too. Jewish families huddled together to sleep, inches from the strangers next to them.
“Sardines! They must think we’re sardines! What are we supposed to do with no space to walk, much less sleep in this place?” Edith Goldberg’s voice carried, as usual, throughout the apartment. She was using her hushed voice to no avail. Harry Goldberg, on the other hand, said nothing.
“And yet,” she continued, “we get less to eat than my little toe. What about that, Harry?” He kept silent. She tried to lower her voice even more, which seemed to be a strain on her. “What about our babies, Harry? What about them? We can’t ask them to do something so grown.” Her voice stayed sure, but her lip quivered, giving her away. Isaac laid against his father’s back, listening. He could hear his mother’s voice in even his dreams. Especially the shrill tone she gets when he pushes his sister, or when he used to get hurt playing with the neighborhood boys. They used to play in the street until he would trip over the ball or roughhouse with the others and his mother would come out. They all scattered to leave him with the screaming woman. His mother’s voice cut through his thoughts like butter. “Harry,” she said, her voice coming out in hiss, “how on Earth-” “You have to keep calm,”
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