Sunday, September 24, 2017

Sunday Sentence: Wolf Season by Helen Benedict


Simply put, the best sentence(s) I’ve read this past week, presented out of context and without commentary.


When his platoon razed the date groves around Basra, acres of waving palm trees, their fronds a deep and ancient green, their fruit glistening with syrups—when they ploughed those magnificent trees into the desert just because they could, he wept as if for the death of a friend.

Wolf Season by Helen Benedict

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