One. A good friend of mine died at the beginning of the epidemic. He was a wonderful storyteller and the owner of the Jerusalem cafe Tmol Shilshom. The second date with my wife today took place in that cafe. We went to listen to David Grossman and then as we were walking down the street she told me that her dream was to marry a writer (so I had no choice). My first meeting with the public as a writer also took place in the same café, Tmol Shilshom. Five people attended, but thanks to the attention and questions the owner asked, I remember it as a good experience. With the...
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