Once upon a time I got a bug up my ass and wrote a collection of four very queer Jewish stories, featuring everything from non-binary angels to a giant primordial human to a pair of nudniks trying desperately to cast out a stubborn demon that just refuses to budge. Now you can buy it and support my desperate need for coffee. My partner and cats thank you.
“Galut” is Hebrew and means “exile” or “outcast”. “Galutim” is the plural of “galut”. So this is a collection of stories for exiles and outcasts. If you feel like that’s you, this is for you, whether you’re Jewish or not. Welcome.
Stories for Galutim is pay-what-you-can, with the minimum price of one single US dollar. If you can’t afford to pay anything, no worries and definitely no judgment — we’ve all been there. Email me or send me a message through the contact form and I’ll send you the 100%-off discount code.Buy “Stories for Galutim”
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Excerpts from “Stories for Galutim”
The inner sanctum was a place and not a place, the Makom Kodesh, the very heart of all creation, yet beyond creation, for it was outside of time and physical reality. The Moon had no eyes to see like the mortal created beings of the Earth, but had she eyes, she would have blinked them several times to make sure she knew what she was seeing. Angel after angel surrounded her, both there and not there, and she was certain she heard singing, but then again, maybe she didn’t. Everywhere she turned, she saw angels until she didn’t, as if if they were there just before she looked but then vanished when she turned her Moon-gaze upon them. The ethereal song emanating from the angels seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at all, as if it was being sung by a chorus of millions and yet was all in her imagination.
The Moon awaited her creator with trembling in her heart and wondered if she had made a mistake.
— from “The First Mitzvah”, Stories for Galutim
When the song was finished, God said to the angels, “Behold my creation and rejoice in its perfection. See how my creatures sing praises. Behold the human creature, who I have created a little lower than you, who sings praises of its own free will. I have created the human in Our image. Look upon it and rejoice in it, my angels.“
The angels looked at the human creature and muttered amongst themselves.
God said, “Why do you murmur?“
— from “Adam”, Stories for Galutim
Gavriel was never sure how aware these mortals actually were of angelic presences, unless the angels were taking pains to reveal themselves. The human mind wasn’t capable of processing that kind of information unless it had no choice, so it came as no surprise to Gavriel when Aaron stopped and peered off to the cliff edge as if Gavriel wasn’t standing there. He couldn’t see the angel, not really, but could sense zir presence. Gavriel drew zir angelic energy in tight, concentrating on becoming more visible to mortal eyes, and was rewarded with a start from Aaron as the towering angelic presence shimmered into view.
— from “Gavriel and the Scapegoat”, Stories for Galutim
Picture Buford and Shad Frierson, freelance demon hunters, speeding out past the Shreveport city limits, music blasting. Picture two skinny, scruffy, twenty-something white boys from Arkansas, both in the requisite redneck uniform of plaid flannel shirts, jeans, and Carhartt work boots. Buford, the older brother, carefully maintains exactly four days of beard scruff and has been practicing his thousand-yard squint since he was a wee thing, playing at exorcism with a couple of sticks from the yard and a garden hose. Shad is taller, gangly, with a perpetual furrowed look like he’s about to burst into tears and an unfortunate mullet.
— from “The Haunting of Mrs. Freeman”, Stories for Galutim
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