(New Yorker) Etgar Keret - The air-raid siren catches us on the highway. My wife, Shira, pulls over to the side of the road and we get out of the car. Lev holds my hand; he's seven. Following Home Front Command instructions, Shira lies down on the side of the road. I tell Lev that he has to lie down, too. But he keeps standing there. "Lie down already," Shira says, raising her voice to be heard over the blaring siren. "How'd you like to play a game of Pastrami Sandwich?" I ask Lev. "What's that?" he asks, not letting go of my hand. "Mommy and I are slices of bread," I explain, "and you're a slice of pastrami, and we have to make a pastrami sandwich as fast as we can." The author is a well-known Israeli writer.
2012-11-23 00:00:00Full ArticleBACK Visit the Daily Alert Archive