Originally published May 2012
Light, fast, Zalman's heels rapped the ground as he ran, naked, down the center aisle of the House of Prayer. His hand reached toward the Torah scroll raised above the altar, but the embroidered mantle slid up and out of sight. The scroll spread open, revealing a passage he ahd not memorized. There, supine on the back Ashurite script, her long braids undone, was Rachel Landau, the bride of his study partner. Her dark eyes smiled at Zalman. He ran faster toward her, his hips rose and fell, circling the heat in his ammah---
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