Why do human rights so often deepen the conflicts they were meant to solve?
How Shalzed and Simon First Met
It all began at the library. Dina Perlstein, whose son Aaron is in my eighth grade Mishnah class, spotted me just as I finished checking out a new Grisham novel on the self-checkout machine. “Moreh Simon,” she said as she hurried over. “I have to talk to you about the test you gave last week. Did Aaron do alright?”
Why do parents think I know every kid’s grade by heart? “I think so,” I told her. “I don’t recall off the top of my head.”
Just then the red flashing light went on at the library exit and the gate made an alarm sound. We both turned to look. A man with pale blue skin and pointy ears was stuck at the locked turnstyle, looking bewildered.
