Isaac

This time He didn’t hold back the hand slaughtering Isaac. Six million Isaacs. And there was no Abraham so whom was He testing? Isaac?

Probably.

Look at me, Isaac, my flesh marked with the pact, and I’m still here and he’s still my god and I wouldn’t deny him for all the nihilism and the scientism and the atheism I was brainwashed with and I still believe in with the fanaticism of modern man. Look not for a paradox, there’s none. The only thing that changed is the color of my star. It was yellow. Now it is blue.

Hallelujah!


Yossi Faybish was born in Romania, where he spent his childhood absorbing a rich cultural heritage seeping through the imperfect seals of an oppressive system. He finished his higher studies in Israel, and then wandered away with his job and his family, finally ending in Belgium. He works in and is passionate about the high-tech industry, though writing is a serious runner-up; or maybe it’s the other way around. Yossi writes prose and poetry in a variety of styles and languages, mainly English and Romanian. “I want people to know not the what but the way I think,” he says. yossifaybish.comaquillrelle.com.