Another Sunday in which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, which asks others to share the best sentence(s) we’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”
“I’m not your dog!” I screamed. “Don’t ever call me that or park in my spot again.”
Source: Judith Gille, “The Messy-Kitchen, Parking-Spot War,” last week’s NYT “Modern Love” column.
Another Sunday in which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, which asks others to share the best sentence(s) we’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”
“She crosses the carpet in her bare feet, trying to avoid the glass.”
Bill Cotter, “Tammy,” in the new issue (206) of The Paris Review
Another Sunday in which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, which asks others to share the best sentence(s) we’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”
“For dying people, past and present run together like chalk drawings in the rain.”
–Jessica Handler, “On the Pain Scale,” for Full Grown People
Another Sunday in which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, which asks others to share the best sentence(s) we’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.” And another Sunday in which I cannot adhere to the instructions of “out of context and without commentary.” In fact, this week, I simply MUST provide some context and commentary. Because on this Sunday between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, the “best” sentences I’ve read lately come from the Holy Day prayerbook, from the Unetaneh Tokef poem/prayer.
A full-text translation can be found here. Leonard Cohen’s famous interpretation (also preceded by context & commentary!) is below. Some writing of mine inspired by the prayer’s lines has appeared on this site in the past. And as we approach the 40th anniversary of the Yom Kippur War, another powerful version, led by the Chief Cantor of the Israel Defense Forces, can be found here.
Another Sunday in which I participate in David Abrams’s “Sunday Sentence” project, which asks others to share the best sentence(s) we’ve read during the past week, “out of context and without commentary.”
“One radio blended into another radio, the congregation around each car standing with heads bent like at a funeral, and when a person left the circle of listeners the solemn face would remain solemn, the bent head would remain bent, a solitary fighter walking into the ring but without the robe, without the name emblazoned across the back, just a New Yorker in work clothes, walking forward, but really these walks looked direction-less except everyone, everyone, was walking uptown.”
Source: Adam Berlin, The Number of Missing. (It seems that I really have difficulty with the “without commentary” part of the Sunday Sentence project; I am compelled to add that I read so many sentences that impressed me as Sunday Sentence-worthy in the advance reading copy I received.)