Word: windows
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...normal, happy 24-year-old who was looking for his place in the world. On the day last June when his parents drove to New York City to claim his body, they were nearly catatonic with grief. The young Russian-studies scholar had jumped from a 10th-floor window of the Milford Plaza Hotel and bounced off the hood of a stretch limousine. When the police arrived, his fingers were still clutching $171 in cash, virtually the only money he hadn't yet turned over to the Church of Scientology, the self-help "philosophy" group he had discovered just seven...
Baker insists that the outcome of the gulf war has opened a "window of opportunity" for peace in the region, and to some degree he is right. The P.L.O. is in disarray and is no longer heavily subsidized by Arab states. King Hussein, who supported Saddam Hussein, needs to work his way back into Washington's favor to get U.S. aid flowing again. The Soviet Union, Syria's longtime patron, now supports the American strategy, seeing the Middle East as a low-cost arena for building up credit with Washington. That support was crystallized in Soviet Foreign Minister Alexander Bessmertnykh...
...ROOMMATES will say I had it coming. They'll claim it was I who hung Dan's underwear out our window during our first year along with a sign noting his name and phone number. They'll accuse me of falsely inserting an award from Eliot in the Leverett House newsletter, so that everyone expected to see him honored on national television. They'll blaming me for convincing Joe to ask for "coed rooming information" from the house master. Lies. All lies...
...cruise in front of the local Hardee's in a scene that looks like the gulf version of American Graffiti. A dozen teenagers break-dance to booming rap music that pours out of the open hatchback of a silver Renault 5 with a U.S. flag painted on its rear window. Yet even this simple celebration brings a reminder of the tension between tradition and change that is testing Kuwait. Passing the scene, a fundamentalist youth mutters, "Islam doesn't need discotheques...
Talia is standing by the small window inside a worn tent, a streak of morning light framing her pretty face in the smoky air. She smiles at the baby in her arms, and for a singular, brief moment she looks like a Madonna in the midst of hell. Her three elder children are sitting on a blanket set on the cold, damp ground. The eldest, a boy of seven, has a vacant look in his eyes, and he twitches every few seconds, like someone lost beyond the edge of pain. His younger brother and sister gaze at him, then look...