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http://fictionique.com/?p=15392
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Starting in his '60's, brain gravity began setting in, and the sand castles started pouring down from the sky like so much rain. That's when he opened his eyes, rubbing in disbelief. This was a risk worth taking. Its time had come and had, in fact, been patiently…
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I picked story starts out of a trashcan and compiled this thing.
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So much of everything isn't the way I'd do it at all. I wouldn't do myself the way I've been done. Nope, the way I'm turning out is not the way I planned, definitely. I'm turning out to be a limp middle class day-after-day type of guy ... I go to work, I
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It has been speculated that his failure to become either a recognized artiste or a blockbuster director is what ultimately led him, when the opportunity presented itself, to upload his consciousness.
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Lydia slid into the pool and rubbed lotion on the exposed areas of skin. She lathered her flipper arms. She lathered her sun-worn face. And she lathered her chest, rubbing some between her chubby breasts.
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“It's a combination of ‘Survivor' and ‘College Bowl' says Sister Mary Agnesita, the show's host. “We take four very strict nuns and match them up with boys who were cut-ups in their grade school classes."
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We're all just meat and atoms who can no more sense into the great beyond than a horse can fly a plane.
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Welcome to the world of (un)reality television. He/she who dies with the most stories wins. Another kind of religion. The Church of Being Famous For Whatever.
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Crosses sitting on the hillside
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Can't you go faster Said the disciple to the master Won't you speed up the car I know that you're loaded And I've already goaded You into crashing through the star But we need To pick up more speed As we break past all the flames So we might soon demise In this…
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It's late it's early love youfuck me the difference isin the garage boxes sitbehind me in the trunklike passengers beside melike pedestrians in frontof me I choose our directionwhat stays what comes whatis what and how did I end upin the garage in the first placein the…
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I went out behind Parker's house and saw Darrell's tent set up in the grass. The flaps of the pup tent were open. I could see him through the mosquito netting. He had a Coleman lamp burning and lay on his back in his underwear on top of his sleeping bag.
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He reached into the bag on the table and pulled out a ten inch record, sleeved in brown paper, with a circle cut out to display the label information. He handled it delicately, like a fresh egg.
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I thought drowning you was the answer. I had barely opened my eyes as I leaned over the sink to brush my teeth, and you were poised near the drain, a furry brown spider, and the largest one I had ever seen up close. I was afraid to smash you, so I flooded you with…
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“Why don’t you dump Mr. Fitness here and give one of us a chance?” a mouse says.
“I wouldn’t fuck you for practice,” she says sharply.
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She found Matthew toward the back, cradling an urn with a tasteful black and gold pattern. When he saw her approaching, he held it up for inspection. “You think I’d look good in this?” he asked.
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More and more, incoherent masses of letters scroll through my mind. Ideas struggle to form. Flashes of images flit rapidly in front of my mind’s eye. There are fish, mountains, presents, forests, mirrors - a menagerie of meaningless symbols march pas
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The calls were going through her as if her whole head had become a wireless receiver. She absolutely did not understand how or why that was happening, but the physical evidence was impossible to ignore.
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I was watching the bustling crowd below, sipping on a teacup full of Victory Gin when the scream, no a howl, cut through the murmuring of footsteps and telescreens.
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Sorry to disturb. Have you seen God in here?No, not of lately, no. Shit.Why, is it urgent?Kind of. Would a cup of tea be of any help?Always. Man in the living room goes in the kitchen, space and time suddenly shift, man in dream does not know where he is, man…
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I am bound behind the bars of my own domesticity, /
by this banana, and pea soup, and wilted cabbage
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Jannsun started working for Matrix back when he gave up on writing the next great American Novel, which was about five years ago, right after the war. He was old for a Web Zone designer but who knew? Who cared? His work was all done via satellite and as l
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I One only I desire, no freedom binds or blinds.Not an icebox mind of fire, more than a myth that is a myth, …
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I wrinkled my face up
in the glare and warmth of the sun.
I baked easy in the hovering heat
and my spot-speckled skin ate
up the rays and swallowed deeply.
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It's been nearly a full week since getting rid of our cable. As my lady put it, "It feels good not to be connected to the social unconscious." Do I feel like less of a programmed drone? Only to a certain extent.
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" ... that’s a seriously good result for an opening night."
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Joan's biospy showed the cancer had come back. Instead of preparing herself for chemo, she booked us plane tickets to the Galapagos. “Death can wait another ten days,” she said.
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Nick frowned, the changing of the leaves reminding him of the graying of his hair.. He'd never appreciated the colors of fall, as they heralded frost, winter, which he hated more and more each passing year.
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