1917 18 15
|
Together / they peeled and fed each other pink fruit, / ordered expensive pink beef, went on / vacations and viewed pink sunsets / on paradise beaches.
|
191733
|
IN BOX 12 OF DD FORM 214, the Department of Defense requires a narrative reason for every military discharge. Mine reads: Continued involvement of a discreditable nature with civilian and military authorities.
|
191744
|
I’ve had it to here you see.
|
191763
|
Damn, I joke with myself, who was the fucking idiot that bought this cheap bottle of red wine?
|
191621
|
Paper Bird, Devotchka, TV On The Radio
|
191694
|
Three hours isn't that long.
|
191632
|
“Why is it that you give a woman a bit of power and she turns into a man” said a new intern from the copying room “You can hear her balls rubbing on the carpet as she walks”
|
191642
|
So it was cancer. And so he was screwed, royally screwed. He was screwed all the more because he knew how screwed he was. He had to carry the shame of knowing, as much as he wanted to deny it, that this had been his first thought when he found out about h
|
191622
|
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…
|
1916129
|
“Lightning has more longevity than I,”
|
191682
|
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.
|
191621
|
At 1 a.m. Route 205 is empty. Del drives. Carla sits in the darkness with the directions to the Nassau County Jail on her lap...
|
19162212
|
The drinking will continue/
until morale improves
|
19152916
|
"...they ran shirtless like pagans under southern stars."
|
191585
|
What kind of person would she be remembered as if she died over night and someone looked in her freezer? She took out a package of bacon from the freezer that was dated 2009.
|
191585
|
Inspired by my last writers' workshop, where encouragement is key.
|
191522
|
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.
|
1914176
|
Tasha loved to tease the rain. She sat still with her legs folded on the bench, never once looking the clouds in the eye.
|
191472
|
Fingers of angry red welts crossed his face and neck.
|
1914101
|
The punchable faces in Manhattan multiply like cancer...
|
191465
|
We lingered there in that room for a few moments, stuck in the awkward goo of rejection and regret. At some point, I’m not sure when, I left, found a bathroom down the hall and washed my ear.
|
19143018
|
I dreamed that coffee grounds had spilled on my Buffet. There was another clarinet, a silver one, that belonged to a man not in the room, that was clean of debris.
|
1914184
|
At night, I fold your name in origami doves and blow, hard, and you are disassembled come morning.
|
191310
|
I’ve been here before.
it wasn’t you though—
it was her before you,
and then she before her …
before you.
|
191353
|
Even though it was late November, it still bloomed. Extravagantly. Obviously it had no shame, obviously it reveled in its own beauty.
|
19133114
|
The image was startlingly unfamiliar. Looking at it, no one would guess it had been their last attempt, their last failure. No one would believe that they had never really been that way, or that the life they shared was built on mind games, manipulation a
|
19131510
|
. . . quit being so rigid, open up to the pasta.
|
191300
|
author's note: the borgs in this story have been programmed to think of themselves as IT and in speech refer to selves as YOU* Though IT too had ball and socket joints, the Borg could not sit down to face ITs inquisitor. While IT felt the need to clean up the fallen…
|
191351
|
Sandra exits her bedroom wearing a bikini. It’s celadon green, though brighter, ‘SW#6705 High Strung’, I’d say. A saturated splash of yellow overtakes its straps.
|
191302
|
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.
|
