end of chag

for eight nights, no matter what else i have done during the day, felt or said, i have had this box of 44 candles from wegman’s supermarket around the corner, and this menorah that i purchased on rue des rosiers in the jewish quarter in paris on my kitchen table next to an arrangement of dead flowers that, as yet, says nothing to me about wanting to be thrown away. i have come home from where ever i have been & made my blessings and lit my candles — for eight nights. and tonight is the eighth night. the end of chag (the holiday). and i feel it. feel the empty candle box. feel the aluminum foil under the menorah – wax drippings heavy to the right, decreasing as you move left towards the spaces where candles are lit only once or twice a year.

i want a jelly doughnut and a hug. it is the end of chag.


About scribblelip

walking down the road with a book of conjugations in my hand.
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2 Responses to end of chag

  1. Jill says:

    Sad face. I felt the same last night.

    • scribblelip says:

      <3 "last night" — you're a DAY ahead of us! did you already take that ithaca trip? you know. chanukah, of all holidays, might be my favorite…

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