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.

At this time of night, the fluorescence makes his eyes bleed. The muscles in his legs are tight; walking's more of a necessity than anything else. Alexander pushes the shopping cart down the endless gray tile floors of the Grand Union on 35.

I may be the shadow that I am, but I only ever loved you.

We’re all competitive and drunk.

When I died, she said, she was going to have me cremated and put my ashes in the cats’ litter box.

Maybe all quarterbacks are shitwads.

And without further ado, The Author.

She thrust her proboscis through seven layers of dermis and began to suck, filling her belly with his Welbutrin and Xanax infused blood.

And the voodoo pins pinged as, folding and imploding, she was reduced to a petro-chemical puddle.

After nine months, I was granted early parole...

you were very very small, you were everso small, you were like – the tiniest creature, hopping about on one leg

They stood at the intersection waiting for the light to change so they could cross the highway.

Reining her small hands around the molded handle grips, her bottom bouncing athwart and wildly off the seat, Symphony wrenches her center of gravity inward, commandeering as much control from the road it would allow. With her breaks behaving as stubborn

Because if they’re wavering, it's about the coin, always about the coin.

She’d once read the Time-Life Encyclopedia on The Universe and became obsessed with the woman from Alabama who was singled out, by a rock from a far place, in her sleep.