Alphabetical stories

Shot Story

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The earmuffs, a fine pale green, are tilted slightly to the left, threatening to quash her in their magnitude. Her eyes, sharp sparkling blue, focus for a flash, looking for applause or assurance, or perhaps just approval. Safe, behind…

Shots Below the Brow

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His self-assurance says/ he’s practiced in the art/ of self-deception

Should Have Gotten Delivery Instead

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My mind raced at the endless possibilities one could die while driving to get a pizza.

Should you ever be allowed to feel this good?

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I didn't notice or care that I was stripped down to just high heels, that he had placed a mirror next to the bed. I just wondered who we were looking at.

Shout to the dead

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All the years since, until this morning, I'd thought the actor was James Gregory.

Shouting the Muse Down

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In the tumbled-down now there's too much material, culled from pretty boys that don't notice me and tattooed ones that do, and I'm certain there's at least one dreamer soaking eyes into me who knows all the twisted lyrics invoking pretty little horses.

Shovel

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each vertebra is a golden cavalier, brave in upright vigilance; stoic heroes.

Shovelling shit.

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“Whatcha doin'?” “Moving this shit.” “Why?” “Well, I can’t leave it here!”

Shovels and Honeysuckles

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When she would leave my pillows still smelled like her. I would just inhale her for hours afterwards, sex and honeysuckles.

Show Talk

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Do you mind if we cut the attack on the settlers, asked Sitting Bull. But that’s the center attraction, said Buffalo Bill. Everyone expects it. But it’s a lie, a gross misrepresentation, said Sitting Bull. I feel like I am endorsing a great fraud.

show the soul its own beauty

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Go ahead, show the soul its own beauty. But also tell me again about my own, so I may know I lived, and loved you. The one who shows the soul its own touching beauty gets to keep her. Who shows her the golden nightly song that's given us life, is like t

Showdown at the Okay Corral

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I hauled out my Norton Anthology and threw caution to the wind.

Showtime

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Showtime on Broadway.

Shredded

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"...you are a freak of nature..."

Shrine

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My tongue is clicking. I want to act out. I want an unprofessional bargain.

Shrinking

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Lately, while he is upon me, in that way that men are upon women, I imagine him a pornstar with only one clip available for replay. Like I am a loop of a video girl below, taking it, maybe calling out in Russian. When I feel rambunctious, I imagine him a

Shuffle

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Something is clearly wrong with them and we're supposed to socialize them.

Shuffling Deck Chairs on the Titanic

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He said he'd searched in vain for his wife, Mary, before abandoning hope and the ship in one of the last row boats. He was allowed in because of his experience fishing.

Shut Up and Dance or "Greensleeves", In Its Way, Was Once a Pop Song

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The catchy tune and cloying lyrics/ nonetheless etch their patterns

Shutter

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Background foreground life in the middle

Siam

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Our city is really two cities, conjoined. One lives during the day, the other at night. Those who live and breathe daytime air call the city by one name, a name which evokes the relative newness of the place, a name with words just barely invented.…

Siblings

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It seems the people of this house were a happy family – The smiling faces, the children’s enthusiasm tells me as much. I wonder what happened to them.

Sic Transit

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He was that famous actor—now famously forgotten—most renowned for his exits. He could burst through an in or out door with the best of them. Better than the best of them; he was the best of them. With the subtlety of his often noisy art he could…

Sick Cycle Carousel

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"... not just a jerk, you're like the king of the jerks!" the Black man said as they came into earshot. "When other jerks look for leadership, they just pick up their cell phone and you're pre-programmed in as the first entry on their speed dial!"

Sick Day

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Marcy was not herself today, her mother said when the school called. She was under the weather and she could not play with the other children. Marcy's mother began to suspect that her daughter was not herself very early on that day. Walking up the stairs Dolores…

Sickness

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She wasn't even trying to live.

Sid's Girls

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Sid, the owner of the red convertible, always slept with his twin Lhasa Apsos, Helpless and Hopeless. He was an early riser and took his “girls”, as he called them, out for a brief walk, yes, and also he was up early to take his morning penicillin because he…

Side Effects

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When the medicine started to interrupt her sleep, she made elaborate breakfasts – sweet potato pancakes, crepes with homemade cream cheese filling, omelets with spinach and brie, hand-rolled croissants stuffed with bittersweet chocolate. It was in those e

Sideburns

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. . . quit being so rigid, open up to the pasta.

Sidereal

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"...they ran shirtless like pagans under southern stars."