1705 18 13
|
The young man is back again, solo,
|
17042217
|
The world is full of dead dogs
|
17042212
|
I liked the taste in my mouth, mint and cigarettes and fresh and filthy.
|
1704109
|
The tiny green light flashing in the lawn of an apartment building one night that caught Roberta’s attention while we were walking home from Café Vita.
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17041312
|
|
17041611
|
Is there a recipe for / lasting happiness?
|
170422
|
The rain fell from the roof. It fell from my voice and and my eyes. Toshiro's Kukichiro stomped gutshot through the mud with his katana. Young and beautiful, Mifumi died there on the screen though he doesn't really die for fifty or more years, they think from something…
|
1703107
|
The Muse stands at the summit of a paragraph playing with a yo-yo.
|
170311
|
Eyes so much deeper, that the internal flow could not hope to equal the intensity fired beyond iris, pupil and sclera. So blue, that life could not exist in the fragile shape of his heart, blue veins outlining an ever enlargening circumference…
|
170320
|
Nothing more savory than gossip relayed in confidential tones.
|
17031412
|
A sweet fog rises to the rafters. Inhale.
|
1703105
|
"She had been warned." (this started as a fun alien story and then took a human turn.)
|
170333
|
Don't feed it to the dog, it has bones, it is a whole goddamn chicken in a can, and I can't stress that enough. Besides one year you gave me a toilet seat for Christmas. I couldn't even eat that Ky
|
17021714
|
Tan my hide. Feed me to rabid / macaques.
|
170284
|
A girl waiting at the door, heart in a Ziploc. An elderly woman stopping at the bank. A bear in a screaming contest with a troop of girl scouts.
|
17021716
|
|
170275
|
He drifted for years: No forwarding. No phone.
|
170200
|
Danica stared at her hand as she felt he warmth of the wind. She remembered Alysia saying that she felt the wind through the heat.
|
1701108
|
Time to pull in the shining teeth, but it makes me so sad, you know I'd rather be holding hands. The others have told me, don't hold back, hit them with every white knuckle, and let them bleed out, I'd rather be kissing your face. It hurts,…
|
17011812
|
There's a man sitting in my room holding a jar of my ashes. That's what he claims.
|
170174
|
She said he was missing the whole point: it was a decoration, not an actual pillow. You were supposed to place it somewhere artful.
|
170132
|
‘Hmph! Dream indeed! “Past the wit of man to say what dream it was” - the man's a knotty-pated arse.' The old master-weaver spat into the fire, his rheumy eyes bright with contempt, then looked round furtively; Nathaniel was not yet returned,…
|
170140
|
She collects slowly
The pieces
Each one
Heavy with grief
Precious and
Also bitter
|
170142
|
Great Uncle did stunts in silents and shot a man in a cowboy one-reeler, then vanished to the hills like Roy Earle in High Sierra.
|
17011211
|
Call him a hobo or homeless or bum or junkie.
|
1701105
|
I don't want no laugh track
I'm trying to find something that's real
|
170135
|
The vampire donated floodlights so the children could play ballgames at night. The lights came on but the dugouts remained vacant. The vampire sat alone in the bleachers. “Sometimes I am less than the sum of my parts,” he said to the sum of his parts.
|
17011911
|
Emma pushes through the door of the corner market, aiming briskly for her car, keys in one hand, grocery bag in the other, shoulder bag slung. Best not to make eye contact with the loitering boozers and bikers from the bar next door. Double take. Can't…
|
17001513
|
Solitude is such an excellent alternative to suicide.
|
1700128
|
No fuckin' way, Maude. Excuse me, but you know I can't stand that bag of wind. No way.
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