Jerusalem Stone
Warm limestone. Glows gold at sunset.
Every block currently in the world. Each one is mineable, placeable, and absolutely up for debate at the dinner table.
Warm limestone. Glows gold at sunset.
Plain Judean limestone.
Forty years' worth.
Gnarled and stubborn.
Symbol of peace.
Solomon built the Temple from these.
Genesis-grade modesty.
Land of milk and honey.
Tastes like Rosh Hashanah.
Parts on request.
Unleavened. Structurally sound.
Braided, glazed.
Cold. Gray. Load-bearing.
Pure enough for the Temple.
For shofars and candlesticks.
Klaf. Don't sneeze on it.
The eternal light.
Lit Friday at sundown.
Schlepped from the old country.
Rendered chicken fat. Slippery.
Form a man. Write 'emet'.
Falls from the sky.
Just dirt.
Sand, limestone, the occasional burning bush. Forty-year journey not included.
Olive groves, honey pools, grass so green it makes Tuscany jealous.
Limestone everything. The light at sunset is, frankly, showing off.
Birch, cedar, mud, and the faint sound of someone's mother calling them inside.
Tenement brick. Fire escapes optional. Pickles guaranteed.