1918 9 6
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We married in the ruins of a pachinko hall, the tiny bones in the pocket of your tracksuit luring a pack of wild dogs out from the underpass.
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1917 0 0
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A burst of mud spilled out over Jonas and scooped his body up like a raging river. It spun his body over in a rebound rather than pushing him through the door.
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1917 14 7
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I respect mom, she survived cancer and all while she was pregnant with me, but something about getting through all that crap made her heart tough, like an over-cooked piece of beef, and no one likes meat you have to chew forever.
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1917 8 4
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It don't knock you down to the goddamned ground and push your face into the mat and dare you to get back up. Just so it can knock you down again. They don't have real dreams. Dreams that make them wake up in the middle of the night. Hurting. Wanting.
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1917 12 6
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She bought her first gerbil at the age of nine. She wondered if he would die from endless logrolling. When he died from natural causes, she refused to bury him and kept a distance from the first boy who kissed her--Thomas J. Hobbit. The next year a twister swept…
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1917 4 3
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I. When my lips mouth yours where they are…
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1917 5 6
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The heart is a toothed hole that cannot be filled.
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1917 7 4
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She said he was missing the whole point: it was a decoration, not an actual pillow. You were supposed to place it somewhere artful.
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1917 17 16
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1916 12 10
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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…
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1916 2 2
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Sometime that night I heard one; you get so you know when they’re coming in low down the valley or set up high over the coastals and I was sure about it.
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1916 7 7
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The mountains of humility went silent, / the rain of regency dried its eyes
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1916 2 1
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“Where did it go? You don’t know do you?” he teased the dogs as he adjusted the bottle rocket he had twisted into the ground at his feet, trying to find the optimal path.
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1916 6 3
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“I need an ambulance, we found a baby in a ditch.”
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1916 12 11
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I knew my mother would die by the weekend
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1916 13 12
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She was thrilled when she learned that her best friend was having an affair.
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1915 0 0
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... 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 ...
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1915 14 9
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When Uncle Dan got sent to the Alzheimer's ward, the ladies licked their lips. Fresh meat.
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1915 0 0
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"I didn’t take my mother’s denial of my dream lightly. I wanted it desperately. I cried and pleaded, nagged and begged. On several occasions, I temperamentally got out of the car at a stop sign and walked. Once, my mother said that I was nagging her so mu
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1915 8 1
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So many opportunities for mud
can be found in these hills,
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1915 1 0
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Gloomy night slippery as snake and duck.
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1915 9 5
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Hair as black as a Raven’s wing. Dark eyes. You wore a black dress, too, my favorite color.
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1914 0 1
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Word traveled fast at school on Monday. Emma Jakowski had actually captured him. He was being held in her dad's tool shed. Anyone who wanted to see him had to be in the Jakowski's backyard by 3:15 that afternoon, chocolate bunny ears in hand. It was no…
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1914 8 7
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a dry bony voice/from a desiccated soul/coughs up its own throat.
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1914 9 4
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1914 10 3
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Jake goes back inside, turns on the TV, and sits down. It is the end of the world! A lane of the Bay Bridge has fallen into the bay. A building downtown has lost its skin.
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1914 6 4
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"...I wonder if it held magical powers..."
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1914 7 2
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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…
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1914 4 1
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4. If the property line is a symbol, what about the neighbor girl's window, the flickering candle in her room, her black cotton panties?
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1914 9 6
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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.
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