IT’S A DAY of rest, and you may be in the mood for a quiet corner and comfy chair. We’ve hand-picked the week’s best reads for you to savour this Sunday.
“See you below,” he yelled to Deborah as he flew through the air. Five seconds into his fall, the static line engaged his chute, which opened above. Randy clutched the handles around his shoulders, terror in his throat, resolving never to skydive again.
“It looked well but had an odor similar to that of a dead human body after being injected with preservatives,” an Army medical officer wrote of the refrigerated meat.
“I fell in love with a non-believer once but it didn’t work,” says Melanie. It’s easier to be with someone who shares the same values. There are fewer fights and less conflict – just more silent obedience to Jehovah.
The salesman tells us there is strict government control of ivory. “We can’t sell ivory publicly, but” – his voice lowers – “I have a friend who can do it. How many hanko you want?”
It’s hard to tell all the cardinals apart, so sometimes I put different dinosaur stickers on their backs.
The fisherman’s admonition was, “You’re going to see a lot of stuff out there that’ll knock you back on your heels, but there’s not much we can do about it. Do your job, shut your mouth, collect your money.”
…AND A CLASSIC READ FROM THE ARCHIVES…
Last year, Jonathan Rauch wrote about caring for his father through the last days of Parkinson’s disease, in The Atlantic.
One of the few times he ever cried in my presence was when he saw me on my knees, scraping hardened ice cream or jam, or whatever it was that day, off the floor. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I never meant for you to scrub the floor for me.”