1890 4 2
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He returned to America on the Fourth of July. Twisting in his cramped window seat miles above the Atlantic, he buckled up before the descent. “You can handle this,” he muttered. Hungover, still reeling from the dreamy head-turning experience of…
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18901915
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“What does the future hold?”
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1890128
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"Everything except food and sex."
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189097
|
They say
it was like an elephant
married to a dove.
Imagine, me,
a dove!
Ridículo!
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189020
|
They were starting to get winded. The boy, his father and his little brother were hiking up a hill, cutting a diagonal path through hay-colored grass towards an outcrop of craggy boulders below the hill's summit.
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18892016
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The custard of eternity is scooped into
the quantum cone of knowledge and drips
out the bottom one lifetime at a time.
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188911
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I keep my life very ordered. Order for me is security. I am sure of some things. Like the fact I work five nights a week, and sleep during the day.
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188900
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He picked her out of the crowd at Club Mai, easy when you knew what to look for: long, dark hair, pretty Latina face, store-bought tits. This one wore a tight dress that showed off her legs, sculpted to perfection by God and a pair of four-inch stilettos.
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1889116
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He has stubby, rough little fingers. Good.
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1889128
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No fuckin' way, Maude. Excuse me, but you know I can't stand that bag of wind. No way.
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188966
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There were avocados splayed across menus like 1950′s pinup girls–all thigh and curve. Avocados in California omelets. Avocados split and diced, sprayed with lime, slapped on bagels, served with tomato.
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1889114
|
A wall of icons can be beautiful if you don’t look closely at the hands. The hands tell stories of too short lives and unrequited love.
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188885
|
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
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188873
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The package arrived, delivered to her work as was her preference. She took it to the ladies room and sat on the lounge, carefully opening the box, removing the new black patent leather FMQs, pulling out the tissue paper stuffed into the toes and placing her well-worn…
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188862
|
I flip up my hoodie, pull the string tight across my lips until it cuts into them, pull tighter, saw back and forth until blood warms the hairs on my chin.
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188800
|
Two women grab a table near a window in a coffee shop. Outside, the sky is the color of dulled aluminum. It is early spring and pollen assaults the air with a tint of sulfur.
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188862
|
They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to change so they could cross the highway.
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18871715
|
Before the days of “customer experience,” Eddie figured out whatever information he could about his clients. He asked them for business cards, recorded their phone numbers from the reservation book, snapped photos of them in his mind…
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188786
|
There was something wrong with this picture. Was he the man she had slept with last night?
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188722
|
No one is a Puritan under all that powder!
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188741
|
™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®>©≈∞⅜∏√™¶¢£ÆëáçÑøí¥®
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188733
|
In another lifetime the loft had been a shoe factory and I joked how in the dark of night I could hear the ghosts of lost soles speaking in tongues. There was the rolling of eyes, and when I repeated the joke to my therapist, who was actually sitting acr
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1887208
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Phoebe-Lou Adams wrote this of them
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188711
|
We brought flowers for our dead lovers
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188698
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In the beginning the revolution was all motion and energy. When the President for Life resigned motion and energy disappeared with the sounds of clapping hands.
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18861410
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It is indisputable that poets love roadkill...
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1886105
|
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188610
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I don't really know, though. I've been locked in a beer cave for the last ten years of my life. I was just let out by some frat boys who were looking for Natty Light.
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18851511
|
Stupidity is not a mask; it is the face / and it is the face that betrays us / always.
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188521
|
A plague of dykes mattered not. This spider-girl had driven the world of thought from Borden’s mind.
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