Breadcrumbs by R. D. Landau

The sun shone through the clouds like a Renaissance-
painting. I broke the bread into smaller and smaller pieces
for increasingly abstract sins but ran out before I got to
lying, like the way I told my former roommate I was doing
taschlich because I didn’t want to go to services, unable to
admit I liked the ritual. Riverside Park was packed –
Reform Jews took Rosh Hashana selfies, little Orthodox
boys tripped on their fringes, a group of mostly older
women danced the Hora and beat tambourines. An earnest
blue-eyed rabbinical student said, “there was once a rabbi
who put a piece of paper in each pocket: ‘I am but dust
and ashes,’ and ‘the world was created for me.’” “Is that
enough for you?” asked the rabbinical student. “Because
it’s not enough for me.”

Illustration by Cameron Lee and Lily Ha

Illustration by Cameron Lee and Lily Ha