Mort Laitner

The Golem of Mar-a-Lago

Moshe sat in the deli, slowly chewing a hot pastrami on rye. The sandwich was perfect—briny, tender, with just enough mustard to sting. As he took another bite, his eyes landed on a black moth resting on the screen door. Its angular shape and dark hue reminded him of something.

That moth looks exactly like a B-2 Stealth Bomber, he thought. What a strange coincidence.

He returned his attention to the sandwich. His taste buds flared like cherry bombs with each bite. A swig of Dr. Brown’s cream soda washed it down in one clean gulp. That’s when he felt a pat on the back.

“Howdy, partner!” came the familiar voice of Mordechai. “You look like you’re really enjoying that POR.”

Moshe chuckled. “This pastrami melts in your mouth. You should order one before they run out.”

Mordechai slid into the seat across from him, but there was a different energy in his eyes—focused, almost solemn.

“I made a decision today,” Mordechai said. “After years of thinking it over… I’ve become a Trumper.”

Moshe blinked. “Wait, what? You switched sides? You’re supporting Donald J. Trump?”

“Yup.” Mordechai folded his arms. “The Twelve-Day War changed everything. Trump ordered the B-2s to drop thirty-thousand-pound bunker busters on Fordo and the other Iranian nuclear sites. No hesitation. No stalling. He proved he’s got brass ones. A real risk-taker.”

He leaned in, his voice more intense now. “He’s the terminator of existential threats. The Golem of Mar-a-Lago. A protector of the Jewish people. He didn’t just talk—he acted. Obama wouldn’t have. Biden couldn’t. And Harris? Please.”

Moshe frowned. “Yeah, but the man’s tearing America apart. The economy’s on a rollercoaster, civil liberties are eroding, our alliances are fraying. We’ve lost the moral high ground.”

Mordechai shrugged. “True. But here’s the question—maybe the only one that matters if you’re a Zionist American: Would you rather see Israel wiped off the map… or see America take a few hits under Trump?”

Moshe sat silently, processing. He turned back toward the moth still resting on the screen door. Its wings were motionless, poised like a bomber in waiting.

He gave a slow, quiet nod.

About the Author
Mort Laitner is a writer, storyteller, and lifelong observer of the wonderfully unpredictable human condition. His writing combines humor, Jewish wit, personal experience, and a healthy dose of curiosity about the rapidly changing world around us. A South Florida writer and longtime member of the writing community, Mort writes about everything from technology and artificial intelligence to Israel, Jewish life, aging, friendship, and the everyday absurdities of modern life. His stories often begin with a simple question—and then take the reader somewhere unexpected. Mort believes that good writing should make readers laugh, think, and occasionally say, “I never thought about it that way.” His work has appeared in The Times of Israel and in literary publications and anthologies. Whether writing about Moshe and Mordechai arguing over the latest news, an encounter with artificial intelligence, or the peculiarities of getting older, Mort brings his distinctive voice, humor, and humanity to every story.
Related Topics
Related Posts
Sign in or Register
Please use the following structure: example@domain.com
Or Continue with
By registering you agree to the terms and conditions
Register to continue
Or Continue with
Log in to continue
Sign in or Register
Or Continue with
check your email
Check your email
We sent an email to you at .
It has a link that will sign you in.