"Give me a cigarette." My hand doesn't reach his pack. "Whatever you want." I look at him and say in complete seriousness, "Be careful of me." He hands me one and puts his hand over his heart, smiling. We barely exchanged a word and already I feel like I'm going to pounce on this man and pull him to me until he screams, begs me to leave, and even then I won't let go. Before my eyes hypocrites rip the exposed flesh of the carcass. His gaze remains on me and the smile is also still there, fangs that turn slightly inward and climb over the next teeth in line. This mouth is so beautiful to me. "Well?" I'm impatient. "What?" "What are you telling me?" "What am I telling you?" He pauses for a moment and I startle, "Don't listen to Amos. Don't come work for me." "Good." I bring the ashtray closer to me, "Why do you say that?" "Why do you think I say that?" "Because you probably have something personal against me. Or for me." He slants a look at me, "Very true." "You knew me three minutes ago." "That was enough for me." telling her now something important. He tells her that there is a possibility that she is facing what she was looking for. She understands that there is a price and she is ready to pay and goes with him: to the bathroom, to travel, to dusty apartments. She wants to conquer and take and plunder everything that can be obtained from his body and mind, to peel back every layer between them until you get to the bottom line, until you know that this time she found someone strong enough to be in front of Noa. Rosenfeld is an immersive, wild and personal novel about a relationship built on scorched earth. Kessler took juiciness and despair from reality, and when she concocted a book from them, she created a rich compound, full of humor and doubly complex. Maya Kessler lives and works in Tel Aviv.