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There were echoes all around them, their shadows delirious and only existed in short spurts under the breath of the streetlights. They danced as their cigarettes leaked calligraphy across the night sky and she tried to trace it with her finger. He asked her what it said…
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Gabe took the huge spoon and loaded it with half of his mousse. He nibbled a bite off the spoon. A big smile, amplified by Gabe’s large head, filled his face and brightened the whole room.
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Azure analyzed her surroundings. There were potted plants along the walls. It reminded her of the dormitories at Memorial Academy. Each room had a number.
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My heart was a puzzle completely incomplete,
until I learned of love in your embrace.
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This is Chapter 2 of my serialzied novel Girma Dali. The title character reflects upon his youth and the young boy, Benga, who mentored him into adolescence.
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Whenever Lady Gaga took the stage,
We peons on the benches cheered for her:
She dripped of jewels and paint, and blessed sage,
Wore meat as the antithesis to fur.
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Society in all its former glory had been taken back by nature in this place
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A pair of flowers leaned on each other, almost holding one another, their petals hanging off by the edge. Emi touched one of the petals to hold it up, but the dark mist appeared and made it fall off.
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The mother continued to stand, marooned in her isolation and Isis' hostility in between table and bed and under the overhead which cast a blue tinge, she held the newspaper- The Daily Mail- which embarrassed Isis- aloft and at an angle, one leg position
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Jack thinks I should carry a loaded gun in my purse.
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Ralph Simpson looked as though he wouldn't last through the weekend. His skin, yellowing from the cirrhosis, covered his hands tightly enough so that the veins looked like they would burst from the pressure.
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Even the old medicine woman seemed to grin with a perverted sort of understanding when she opened the door to find Lys waiting outside. She was comfortable nowhere and ready to flee at any moment.
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Staring at her horribly disfigured face, I envied her.
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With her head thrown back and mouth open she howls into the dark green night, letting her gloved hands droop like the front paws of a dog. A large orange corsage attached to the bosom of her gown.
Around her thick neck, a ribbon of black velvet. Her p
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Gibson Park, underneath the grove of trees beside the soccer field. She's buried. But don't say anything yet. Her disappearance will make the news shortly, but it hasn't yet.
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This is between the two wars, so
it surprises you
when TV screens light up with this in the hotel breakfast room.
You are in Delhi, you were supposed to fly home
last night but
fog canceled everything.
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I could reach out
and grab this world
by the p...
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What do you mean dope in the front seat. I always keep my dope in the trunk. I mean hey, children DO steal.
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I thought of Ruth burrowed deep in the nest of her closet and quickly jumped into the footlocker. I nearly stopped breathing as he entered his bunker.
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Early reviews of Barney’s Version (the film) had prepared me for finding the book’s most amusing attributes – particularly its skewering of Quebec nationalist politics and Canadian cultural nationalism – left out. After all, turning a 417-page account of
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I found my patch by accident whilst out picking medicinals ta cover a load o' dead constrictors. I tested the patch in the traditional way an' got a bit stoned on jes' a nibble o' a fresh sprout. Course, everyone knows the sprouts 're more concentrated t
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That’s where her reputation Wild Cat came from.
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I don't belong. I don't feel privy to grown up conversations, yet I can't relate to teenage expectations. I'm floating on the walkways in another dimension of time. Everybody looks like ghosts functioning in robotic ways. I feel an electric eye following me in my…
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....sucking my blood
kind of draws the line.
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When I wake, I wonderwhat leaves the smile haunting my lips.There is only a ghostly remnant of your eyes, your touch, your kiss. Now I long for the Sea of Dreams,but my body is here imprisoned.Awake, I cannot reach you.The ship has departed; the tides have…
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“Have you heard about Lucius?” The lawyer turned to the carpenter. “They say he's gone mad. Just gone; the madness of the gods.” Sitting in the barbershop were the former two, one in his forties and the other of his fifties; a gray-haired…
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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.
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Laurel's new bike is powder blue, with silver tassels on the handle bars. Jenny's mouth actually waters at the sight of it, as though it were a fresh loaf of bread or a perfect, juicy orange. “You can ride it if you want,” Laurel…
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In order to be a catalyst for catharsis — which is just a fancy way of saying agent of change — you have to be willing to condition yourself into something partially inhuman. Only something on the very outskirts of humanity…
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