The Snowstorm
Scene
At Chatcha Shimcha’s small farmhouse. It is winter and late at night. The windows are frozen over. Outside a storm is raging. Yoel Chayim, a very tall and a very old man with a very bent back, is sitting near the oven and has been picking feathers out of a sieve. His head nods sleepily and he dozes, waking at frequent intervals. During one of these little naps his head jerks suddenly upward, throwing his skull-cap into the sieve of feathers. He wakes up and feels on his head for his cap; he finds it missing and finally locates it in the feathers, chuckling softly to himself as he picks off the feathers.
Yoel Chayim
Did you ever hear of such a thing—a cap to get too small for one’s head! (Looking about him.) Where are you, Pesele?
Pesele (from the other room)
I’m lying on the oven.
Yoel Chayim
You feel cold?
Pesele
I’m asleep.
Yoel Chayim
Have the roosters crowed yet?
Pesele
Long ago.
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