- By Edward Clifford
For three hours I've been thrusting my body past the breaking waves on the northernmost beach in Tel Aviv, where the surfers go, and the lifeguards keep calling—little girl!
Little girl, come back!—when I move just outside the border marked by red and white plastic lines tied to metal poles sunk into the sea floor.
—from "Breaking," Volume 61, Issue 3, (Fall 2020)
We asked Marcela Sulak the same 10 Questions we ask our other contributors. She provided the following interview.
Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.
Roses are red.So’s the Indian Blanket.
What happened to the Titanic?
An Iceberg sank it.
At the time, I was proud of extreme...