2009 13 4
|
. . . she didn’t bow her head.
|
200972
|
"I know," Timothy explained, "he can't use it. He's a cripple." No one else seemed to understand.
|
20091616
|
There were one hundred titles on the list. One hundred books that could neither be assigned nor put on a recommended reading list.
|
200900
|
it was one of those days, nostalgically bathed in technicolor, kodachrome and lost shades from a more vibrant distant past. squirrel jesus sat still
|
200900
|
My novel-in-stories, NAN, is now available as an ebook for $6.99. Thanks to everyone who read the first 7 published stories here on Fictionaut.
|
200920
|
Her mother told her once: "Don't be no whore, Fe-fe."
|
200821
|
Paper Bird, Devotchka, TV On The Radio
|
200884
|
“I don’t know what’s going on there,” Hank, who hated his name and wanted a more Biblical name because those names (Jeremiah! Matthew! David!)—although common—sound ominous, said as he pointed up to the top of the apartment building that housed the whores
|
200843
|
…Professor Wumbat begins.
|
20083012
|
What scares her about libraries are unshelved books, the ones you thumb through while you are waiting for the elevator, because you realize that there are too many books in the world and you are holding that particular book only because it is lost.
|
2008102
|
I never pulled it off, never rode an atom through a super collider with a nose full of cocaine and a drink in my hand. Never was a bullet, zooming through the city, skin pressed to bone, nerves on fire. Never was an atom bomb, ever-exploding in slow motion, ripping off…
|
20081210
|
Christ walks the streets of Venice,/has long since become a regular . . .
|
200898
|
We know a poem isn't going to stop you From invading our town. It won't get you to Listen to our birds any more than to our Sunsets. That's not why we do it. We know A poem isn't going to break the blade of Your knife like an…
|
20074024
|
What used to be a scene has broken into fragments and blips of her on a screen I can’t control or manipulate.
|
200732
|
She was legally blind. He felt comfortable knowing she couldn’t see him very clearly.
|
200785
|
Mars' circled state is slain, no bird of Jove That roosts protected in its green youth's flush; Its storms no more bring moistness from above, From blue beads cradled in one thunder's flash. The god of War was husband once to Love: Her arms were …
|
20071917
|
A flash in seven chapters.
|
20071312
|
But by day the birds / of prey were in control.
|
20061713
|
No fear of that, / he assured her,
|
20062517
|
The scent of fresh cut grass./
The idiot sense of accomplishment/
mowing the lawn can bring.
|
200620
|
“I am NOT a hooker.”
“What exactly are you, then?” Marlene raised her slim eyebrows. Her almond shaped eyes and high-cut bangs gave her the appearance of a 1950s Barbie doll.
“Well…” I stirred my coffee and looked down. I wasn't sure wh
|
200601
|
Imagine instead the skater's lean feat, the toes which, honestly, may represent 25% of the entire length. The superb way she slips them into the boots. They smell like truffles.
|
200662
|
And now its done! Five months read! This book is batoning in my head. Its eleven o'clock AM and hot as hell, even the breeze, billowing nets through the sliding screen adds sweat, cuts me down to size. I will needs again to…
|
200600
|
The ice in Mum’s drink clinked as she rolled the glass across her forehead. “Ith that a gay thing or ith that a vampire thing? ’Coth I’m finding thith all a bit confuthing.”
|
200642
|
The stern tone of the chairwoman made him miss his mother, the snap of her accusations, the sting of her belt on the backs of his legs.
|
200675
|
“It’s a sad thing,” I said, “when a man has to suffer just for getting a little on the side.”
|
200684
|
He beats the girl, stabs her 22 times, rapes her, then uses his fingertips to push her orbital sockets into the back of her head before killing her. At trial, he laughs about whether or not there…
|
2006125
|
Thistle and cracked corn were thrown to us each morning and the occasional live chicken...
|
200661
|
Bit by bit I was traveling away, we thought. Maybe I’d join myself, all together, in Toronto. Or in an industrial coffee can. Or in the closet. “Check the closet,” I pointed.
|
2006115
|
After court, the three of us skipped third period, walked down to the river and huddled under the 6th Street Bridge.
|
