1800 18 8
|
I always step around his mess...
|
180011
|
I bet if I went back, Old Stradlater would still be combing his gorgeous locks in front of the same goddam mirror.
|
180020
|
Gateway Loves are lethal. They do not discriminate between bot or flesh, primary or clone.
|
180055
|
Crawl to the dark places I love most, loud music and off key laughter, glimmering green and brown bottles eagerly holding the dim lights overhead inside themselves like ransomed stars.
|
18002512
|
...fancy the idea of tapas, Spain an' all.
|
18003620
|
|
180096
|
he’s recognizable in the earliest images of misery: a hand shoving a young gladiator before the lion; the fire devouring a witch in Salem. And here he is. Again.
|
180043
|
fifteen together with a little streetart slamtrick
|
180032
|
One day my mother's lover shaved his beard and legs. Said he couldn’t fit into his tight jeans anymore.
|
1799135
|
She slipped into a silky sheath dress, and stepped into black sequined heels just as the doorbell rang. Her date had arrived to take her to his much touted Art opening in town. Reaching under the bathroom sink for a final mist of hair spray she realized too late…
|
179900
|
A few people bristled and looked at Jim, but since he was avoiding their gaze, they had no choice but to return their attention to their own table and pretend to pay attention to the conversation they previously had been pretending to pay attention to.
|
179986
|
I woke to a crash and the sound of coins rolling along the linoleum. “Mom?” She did not look up. Her shaking hand was gathering up the single crown coins, the fifty heller pieces. Triumphantly she rescued a ten crown note from the piggy bank shards. …
|
179972
|
I can't even tell you when it all started to come apart, but I do know that they're just nervous tics, responses to stress. We all go through it.The fact is I wouldn't even be bringing up any of this if it wasn't for the fact of the… incident… Shit, I know I wasn't…
|
179941
|
fated and cruel, a person I don't love
|
179900
|
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.
|
1798117
|
Winter melts to ashes and now we walk where hillocks dip like pillows, where a warm pocket of air keeps the scent of spring beauties for itself. Sensitive vetch so easily shocked folds under a feather yet the earth trembles where trout lilies shove. Buds stall on lilacs…
|
17981312
|
Let’s talk about Chattanooga, the cloud / mountains, the monastery bench, drunk / at sunset
|
17981510
|
|
179700
|
... all my friends are girls; I like opera; I can answer all the questions about male and female ejaculation – without stammering – in sex ed. classes.
And Braydon? In boardshorts, tall and tanned and naked from the waist up ...
|
179700
|
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
|
179700
|
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…
|
179742
|
I want to break that mug. (Break him.)
|
17971613
|
|
17961210
|
I'm dying but that's not to say what you think it says. I've crossed the river of myself many, many times before and wandered to the shore, broken and drenched and full of the fever of dyingdreams. Each time was a kind of ritual mask, drying off the beat ofmy newly…
|
17961311
|
I am constricted by rings. The weight of self crushes me.
|
179621
|
Six thousand dollars was a small price for a man's life. Mario was in the back seat of the Honda with Johnny next to him handcuffed, all tense. Francisco had it on a rap station, the sort of music that gave Mario a headache.
|
179675
|
Lila began to hear whispers coming from her home's air vents and quickly assumed people were watching her. Maybe that was why the yard was not progressing she thought. The unknowns talking to her through the vents had control over everything she did.
|
179642
|
your leather jacket zip has left a row of teethmarks on her arm
|
17961311
|
Max leads the parade up the hill. He is sawing on his violin, wearing nothing but a raincoat.
|
179531
|
"Not a fan?" Beth asks, feeling a sliver of happiness move through her. He furrows his brow. "Then what brings you here?"
"I'm here to pick up girls," Steve says simply. "Want to hit the buffet table? Want to run away to Mexico?"
|
