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Our grandmothers would often tell us that no matter how much you envy someone, if everyone threw their package of problems into the center of a room and was given a choice of anyone else’s, you would, guaranteed, pick up your own.
They were fortunate, the Fletchers. They were lucky. They took every advantage given them and moved endlessly forward toward an enduring future of hope and success, their paths lined with gold, their prior failures and bad luck paved over without consequence. They were the shining realization of the Jewish American dream, people who could load their plates with all that this country had to offer.
“Baruch dayan ha’emet,” the rabbi said. “What a force she was.” “Yes,” Ruth said, and they were both silent for a singular moment. That silence contained half a century of mutual, shared dread.
Her ancestors had left their ability to share their feelings on the Mayflower and had never called lost luggage to pick it up.
The movie, which was called by the Times “good, unmemorable fun that occasionally takes itself too seriously (though those moments won’t be memorable, either, not to worry),”
You don’t actually talk about things you know about people; you just live with the knowledge and allow it to ride quietly in the backseat of your relationship.
The weather, it was deadly. It was back-to-school, Jewish-holiday crisp, a bright blue sky with fibrous, bright white clouds. It was the weather of optimism and renewal and forgiveness. It was the weather of every fresh start he’d ever had, every lesson he’d ever learned, every first time he’d ever had.
In the Tragedy of Death vs. Celebration of Life lottery, the winner was going to be the less frequent but always memorable third option: Character Assassination of the Dead Before She Is Even in the Ground.
“I’ll call you back,” he said into the phone, forgetting that no one could hear him.
“My trainer says hydration is a myth.
(What if she became a librarian? No! Stop!)
There has never been, in the history of all human interaction, a way for a woman to explain effectively that she’s calm when a man has suggested she isn’t.
Josh watched on YouTube a girl in a bra top with what had to be prosthetic nipples playing a first-person shooter game where a boy band opens fire on a water park.
He was kidnapped. He was kidnapped. He was finally kidnapped. He had never been happier in his life.
How can you get over anything if it all is just constantly happening?
