Sonia Zylberberg

The Orange on the Seder Plate: a Mystery in Six Symbols Sonia Zylberberg

She pushed the door open, carefully, tentatively, unsure of what she would find. The note had said come alone, come at once. So she came . . . . . . Inside, all was dark. Except for the unearthly glow coming from the centre of the room. As she came closer she could just about make out the outline of a completely round object at the centre of the light, in the centre of the table. She felt herself falling into the light as it glimmered and pulsated, expanding and shrinking, the rhythm of a heartbeat, but none she recognized. Closer and closer she came, slowly, tentatively, until her right foot slid on something wet. Regaining her balance, she bent down and felt the puddle on the floor: viscous and thick, it filled her with dread. Retracing her steps, she left quickly, closing the door silently on her way out.