On the Death of Meir Shalev – Culture

From

Leah Hampel

The most noticeable were the hands. Not big, but strong. He laid them casually over the back of the couch during the conversation, they lifted briefly when he shrugged his shoulders again laughing at an anecdote of his own. They looked like someone who could, of course, write books, but above all was also very good at digging a bed – and they matched Meir Shalev’s overall appearance.

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