1648 0 0
|
Where was it? Tino wondered, craning his neck, plastic bag in hand. He would have sworn there was a Barnes & Noble along this stretch. Had it closed since his mother had last been in the hospital two years ago?
|
164840
|
Gyan Ban Thoughts - This post is about aspiring models.Scores of these dreams get killed everyday under the arc lights. Exploitation is rampant and millions of cases go unreported.This story is of one such incident.
|
164830
|
|
164887
|
I'd been working for two years as a barista in a Starbuck's in a giant, two-story Borders in an upscale mall on Rt. 355, a main artery between Washington D.C., and Frederick, Maryland. I'd finished my M.F.A in 2000 and was trying to build up steam for more grad…
|
1648149
|
It's eerie. There are no birds. My friend and I take our morning walk in a bubble of silence.
|
164852
|
I think I’m the best Marilyn Monroe there ever was.
|
1648104
|
He got up to the pulpit and said that he thought he might have made a mistake. I will never forget the desperate look on his face. He recalled being at his Ivy League school and wondering just what he was interested in upon his graduation and what would b
|
164871
|
In a few brief moments the entire sky became full of this wetness and greyed to the point of almost blackening, and it was a Sunday morning, and the man thought that thoughts were strange things, because he had a piercing epiphany that there was no God..
|
1648109
|
poets can kill, or at least they once could:/
perhaps poems tamed us, if they are any good.
|
164782
|
The midsummer sky is black above us when I hear Dad say my name, quiet like I’ve never heard before. I let my hands drop away from my face and crawl towards him.
|
164732
|
|
164798
|
Miguel's mom told everyone if you pressed your ear against the knot, Jesus would tell you special secrets.
|
1647106
|
I saw/
star shine in/
my silver pail
|
164722
|
"You're going to have to call me 'dead eye' after I get this possum."
|
164700
|
|
164700
|
Momo told me not to mind her, but I did. At night, after he'd tucked me in, I could hear him on the phone in the living room, talking for a long time. Early this morning he woke me up and gave me my backpack. ‘Put some clothes in here', he said. ‘We're going on a trip.'
|
164773
|
Roanne banged the chiva, turned tricks, and ran out of road.
|
164600
|
The water was like glass except for a ripple here and there where Spearing were jumping. Joe didn’t know whether they were playing or avoiding being lunch for larger fish. He set up shop above the point where, light years ago, his father, a fisherman, had
|
164652
|
I got a chance to study story structure, character development, and writing of dialogue in an intense boot camp laced with orange jello and intravenous drugs.
|
164654
|
You can’t take a chandelier on an emergency dash across a nuclear desert.
|
164685
|
They have a saying in Russia: Live in Voronezh, work in Samara, die in Tyumen. In honour of Saint Rose, born on the banks of the Voronezh, fed the hungry and the poor of Samara, torn apart by wolves in Tyumen on the exact date that she had herself predict
|
16461511
|
There was nothing to do but dream ourselves forward. Nothing to do but not die.
|
164645
|
When the city froze and the darkness began to arrive ahead of rush hour, my pills worked; Butterfly Hu’s did not. In a double blind trial, you can’t know who gets the miracle, and who gets the sugar.
|
164651
|
The light against the nylon walls of the tent gets me feeling a little down. The air's wet inside, but it's warm. The whole world outside is creaking and chirping, everything that wakes up with the dawn's first tepid blue light does so and starts making n
|
1645104
|
Across from the Hell Hole
the Cage on Sixth pulses,
sweats, swooshes, hot concussion as players
play for keeps.
|
164510
|
At this time of night, the fluorescence makes his eyes bleed. The muscles in his legs are tight; walking's more of a necessity than anything else. Alexander pushes the shopping cart down the endless gray tile floors of the Grand Union on 35.
|
164500
|
From the moment they had decided to come until the present, each seated guest had been parading one faceless male possibility after another through her curious mind. Would he be strong? Handsome? Ugly? Crippled? The possibilities were endless...
|
1645105
|
Truth came out of it, a little bug that hovered there...
|
16451911
|
|
1645135
|
The Fuddy-Duddy Writer does not do wit.
|
