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The flowerpots across the street from Frank’s room at the Place d’Armes Hotel never appeared parched by the late August sun.
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to continue to crumble its way through another grinding cycle of slowly walking to the edge of the universe ancient treelike beings, like gentle ghost buffalo, and our own thundering buildings by the hundreds of thousands, …
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Now it turns out, the story doesn’t begin with the butterfly lady, herself, but with her brother.
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Don't forget to fuck me. Blow me. Suck me. Don't forget to fuck me. [REPEAT 2X]
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That evening I sat and watched the sunset. The color of the water changed from blue to black. The sky turned from pink to star-spangled ebony. There was no moon.
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His throat still burned and his muscles ached but the codeine put it at a manageable distance. He sank into delicious sleep and was awakened some minutes later by a terrific jolt and the crash of metal.
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Each evening the man allowed himself an hour of fresh air. He and Prickles would situate themselves on the tiny balcony overlooking the same street, a blanket bundled around them both for warmth. These were the times he liked to talk to Prickles the most
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Jaume jumped up from the bar, a wide smile across his face. He hugged his old friend and planted a kiss on his wife's cheeks. He was buzzing from the chance encounter, marveling how life had brought them together after all these years. There had to be a r
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is all but invisible. Some say this is because it is within a bakery within a bakery within a bakery and thus appears to be everywhere at once.The cake for God has never been eaten except by children who seem to later forget what it tasted like. Some …
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They look like amateur beavers, all twenty-seven of them on their knees, gnawing through frosting bark. My wife is taking notes on a huge purple flower, listening to the kids as they shout out what tree corresponds to what flavor.
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We believe in our love storyin spite of the ferocious efforts ofserial bankerseverywhere to discourage us from looking our damned nearprettiest if we really feel like it. I meangranted they do do their ugly troll dogimpressions of…
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He was prepared for this event.
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I strolled mindlessly along the concrete pavement, the cool breeze carrying the characteristic scent of the night. I stared at the path ahead, but not really looking. My legs continued their automated operations. I didn't know where I was going, but that was all right - I…
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The Campus Socialists
Paul and Mary Jo lived in an apartment at the top of a long, dark flight of stairs that were so high, I remember as if it were yesterday thinking, the night she pushed him down the stairs, he would surely be dead by the time h
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128200
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The artist leans back in his chair, smoking a cigarette
after lunch, looking away from the table toward the right
He is dressed in white, and he's practically stretched out
his entire length, to relax after rowing the boat all
morning. Sunlight
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When he leaves herThe weather is glorious of courseUnblinking sunshineHe walks awayShe touches the edge of his sleeve I touch his sleeveBlack jacket flung over his shoulder Black jacket over his…
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....sees the beginning of a new day through the closed shutters, hears the guard washing up at the sink, feels the beginning of a cry in his throat.
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waves assaulted black volcanic rock in briny harmony
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I cannot make love to a woman who looks like David Byrne.
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Steam rolls out of the bathroom as Mr. Larson opens the door with a white towel around his waist. Pepper strolls up to him and purrs as she rubs her long, gray tail against his tanned legs."Hey, girl.” He runs his coarse, scarred fingers through the cat's soft coat.…
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There by the opposite doorway opening onto the thinly carpeted kitchen lay—well, what seemed to be all that was left of Miriam Flagellporte . . .
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Calmly I rang the bell for Mrs. Madison and sank with some relief onto the ottoman. In a crisis, a calm head and decisive action are called for. The housekeeper would surely know what to do.
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I didn't know what to do, really, but I had to do something. After all there was no one left to be the real bona fide hero to this story, except for me, the guy who wasn't any kind of a hero at all. I mean I could hardly move an inch, rolled…
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He spotted her in Sarasota Whole Foods surveying the artichokes
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The casual writer uses the work "dick" often. Other words for this appendage he finds pretentious, emasculating, or too much trouble to look up. A dick has simple motives. It is an agent of birth and death, a divining rod for the dark wet.
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Like Smart’s cat Jeoffrey,
he’s a mixture of gravity and waggery.
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and springs its ready-made claws into action and takes a soppy chance that things will probably go its feline way today. But you, my friend, must you always throw the testing switch to high voltage on me? Yeah I get that the history teachers…
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Bitch My brother is the only person who dared to slaughter a bitch and its five puppies. It is sickening to write this story. Sickening to read it. This happened on Sunday night when the muezzin called for the prayer. The puppies were…
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A cat terrorizes a small family. They fight back.
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