First Edition features new original works by Northern California Jewish writers. Appearing the first issue of each month, it includes a poem and an excerpt from a novel or short story.
by eva schlesinger
My great aunt’s face glowed as she told me
stories about her visits to Wengen, Switzerland
She traveled every summer with her husband
after they fled Nazi Germany for Brazil
When he died, she carried her large, heavy suitcase
by herself till she was ninety-five
Her wrinkled face crinkled with smiles when she described hiking in the Alps
in her clunky black heels, her hands clasping a black leather purse
She filled her lungs with crisp mountain air
She beamed as she told me about conversations with hotel guests and villagers
She knew everyone she passed on the street
She ate chocolate with gusto and every summer sent me bars
of milk and bittersweet chocolate with pistachios and raspberry cream
I savored her stories, her sweets
I saved the crinkly, colorful wrappers showing little bears at tea
After she died, I wanted to wrap her presence around me
I wanted to fill my lungs with her spirit
I wanted to know what it would be like
to travel with her zest for life and to eat chocolate twice a day
I wished and wished I could meet her dearest friends
I arrived in Wengen in peak travel season
I called the hotel where she stayed every summer for thirty years
I said, I am the great niece of Edith Munter
The receptionist said, We remember her
She also said they had one room left
Eva Schlesinger of Berkeley is an award-winning poet whose collections include “Remembering the Walker and Wheelchair” (2008). Her poetry most recently appeared in Changing Harm to Harmony: Bullies and Bystanders Project (Marin Poetry Center Press, 2014). She has completed a novel, “Everyone Knows About Aleph,” and writes about food, life and fanciful things at www.notesfromthecupcakerescueleague.wordpress.com.
Works may be submitted to fiction editor Ilana DeBare at [email protected] or poetry editor Joan Gelfand at [email protected]. Fiction excerpts may run up to 2,500 words, but only 800 words will appear in the print edition, with the rest appearing online. All prose and poetry published to date can be viewed at jweeklylit.wordpress.com.