

present an extraordinary vision, a fresh, original and effective portrait of a society and its beleaguered young men.

When he goes to the central bus station, he sees 'hundreds scattered all over the place, rivulets of fuel oozing out of their disemboweled shells, their shattered innards strewn on the black and silent asphalt.' The story manages to be both whimsical and deeply serious, a flight of fancy built around an image from the very real world of suicide bombings. In one of the stories in The Girl on the Fridge, a man waiting on the street hears from a passerby that the buses are all dead. Averaging about three pages, each presents a single fully formed incident, often surreal. "From the beginning, the most unmistakable aspect of Keret’s style has been the length of his stories.
