Horns

When the boy on my

cruise from New Orleans

asked, Where are your horns?

I was completely floored.

Where are my horns, I thought,

clasping my hand over

the Star of David necklace

around my neck.

I went back to my room,

made a cup of tea, and

said goodnight to Grandma.

Gute Nacht, my grandmother

said to me, before tucking

me into bed.

Grandma, I said, has anyone

ever asked you if you had horns?

Oh yes, said Grandma,

back in Austria anyone wearing

a star was called a beast. But you

know what?

I looked cautiously

at my grandma

and raised my eyebrows.

The ones with the thickest horns

are the ones that are most

likely to survive.

I glanced up at my

grandmother,

a 92-year old Holocaust

survivor, and suddenly my

eyes became heavy

and closed.

That night I dreamt about

winning. About standing on

a first place podium

holding a golden trophy,

with passion in my eyes.