1929 6 3
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Damn, I joke with myself, who was the fucking idiot that bought this cheap bottle of red wine?
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192900
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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.
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19281311
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I am constricted by rings. The weight of self crushes me.
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192821
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I didn’t kiss Odgeir because I fancied him, I kissed him because I knew other people fancied him.
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192885
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Inspired by my last writers' workshop, where encouragement is key.
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192820
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She’s right there in Thirsty’s. In her usual spot. Drinking her usual drink. Yuengling on tap. One after another.
And he’s there too. Behind the bar. Pouring drinks. One after another.
Sometimes they speak. But mostly she orders. He pours. And
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192822
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Janice’s jaw dropped when I told her how much we could get for it. “Enough to never work again and get a nice new pair of these,” I said, squeezing her tits.
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192863
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I can tell you all about rock bottom.
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1927124
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all / the secret letters/ ever dreamed up
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192742
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Had I scoured all five boroughs of New York I couldn’t have found a more perfect imperfect object for my affections. Morgan was crazy as a loon, with the common sense of a mackerel and the emotional stability of a canary. But believing love could conquer
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192782
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The depth of her love for Briana could only be heard on the 80’s ballads station fumbling from the stereo in Madi’s car, awkward, just like her smile.
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192700
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wrap me in the soft, cool blanket of night. waning,the moon peers down at melike the heavy-lidded eye of some cyclops. and if I be lost like poor Odysseus,cloak me in the soft, warm wool of night. and if my eyes fail me like old Tiresias,stitch the cloth with…
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192711
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And I was going into the visions you get before you go to sleep. And I heard her moan. It was so beautiful. I moaned back. And she moaned again. And I did too. We pretended I guess that we didn’t hear each other. That we were moaning in our sleep.
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192621
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The Bike Messenger on Lexington Avenue
Comes to rest
taking a moment
in the falling rain
slowly massaging the
veins at the top
of his bald head
Cracking his neck
while the yellow cabs start
honking behind him
Unwilling to mov
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1926145
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19262916
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"...they ran shirtless like pagans under southern stars."
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192622
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Her face had that strange preserved quality Maybelle saw in many aging Boomer women — like an old toy never removed from its packaging.
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192654
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You know how it is, one day a good friend sends you this long note telling you how-the-hell they are or aren't getting along in the frigging world
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192612
|
The zombie apocalypse was long foretold as a rather exciting bit of bother involving shotguns and chainsaws, but the reality of it is rather depressingly boring.
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192642
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All right, so the frog I risked my lips on (not to mention the contents of my stomach) . . . .
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192600
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The words of prophets only serve to demonstrate that ‘unreliable narrative’ can often result in poor literature; unfortunately, poor literature can attract a very large following.
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192572
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Fingers of angry red welts crossed his face and neck.
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1925103
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“I was looking for the review of the Alvin Ailey dance company when I noticed something in the sports pages,” says the 300-pound center. “All of a sudden it hit me–I should have been playing football."
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192522
|
Once or twice he sees her around town when he’s out driving but other than that, I mean, it’s not like he was stalking her, he didn’t know where she went to school or what she did for a part-time job, he didn’t care, he wasn’t interested.
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19251010
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He says he’ll have a Bud, too. The woman taps her pencil on her pad, looks at the kid and says, “When?”
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192522
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And you don't like much. No handholding or brand name sweaters. No phone calls late at night. This is not you. And you certainly don't go for kisses in the rain or cards from the grocery store with…
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19251815
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Together / they peeled and fed each other pink fruit, / ordered expensive pink beef, went on / vacations and viewed pink sunsets / on paradise beaches.
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1925101
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The punchable faces in Manhattan multiply like cancer...
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192502
|
I might as well just keep driving. Past my exit. Beyond my job. Just drive. Until the tank runs out of gas. A blank future is better than this bleak one.
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19252212
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The drinking will continue/
until morale improves
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