1957 11 9
|
They both have an annoying habit. She talks to him while she's in another room, and he doesn't answer because he can't hear what she's saying.
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195721
|
She persisted. “How long have we been here?”
A note of anger crept into his voice. “How long? How long? Why …, why ….” He swallowed hard, realized he had forgotten.
|
1957124
|
There was a children’s lit theme running through the party. Aside from Annemarie’s costume, there was a Harry Potter, a Pinocchio, and a Grinch.
|
195765
|
This is Jorge. He was a good little monkey. And always curious.Like the time he and his friend, the man in the amarillo sombrero, had to fly to Japan. *Jorge sat by the window. Watched the ground get further away. Until they were above the clouds. He looked out…
|
195710
|
It was stubborn early winter, when everyone was cold but went outside anyways, rubbing red fingers and shuffling feet.
|
195754
|
A man with bleeding hands at the back door of Out of the Closet
this morning asked me for the bride and groom figurines at the
top of my donation box
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19571715
|
He had coal black hair the day he died. He claimed to be part French, no doubt the offspring of a Swedish girl and a French soldier, although Ole did not mention this.
|
195731
|
There’s no training course available for kids in love. You can watch your parents, you can watch other kids, but for the most part it’s all trial and error, and I'm still pretty shaky at almost all of it.
|
19572913
|
Cinnamon and smoke
infuse the days that shorten,
chill, accelerate.
|
195744
|
Rhonda looks guilty as it is, don’t you think? That hair! And the unhappiness smeared across her face like war paint after a war.
|
19561914
|
Sure, to a teacher, life is a paper / but what would life be to a druggist?
|
195675
|
skies electric blue,/limpid dewy air, the world/framed by a small farm.
|
195611
|
We brought flowers for our dead lovers
|
195600
|
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.
|
195611
|
Right away, like toadstools, there were crackpot theories. The first: that kids out on the lake dock, against fire department warnings...
|
195611
|
I know it was the ceremonial magician who talked you into it. I know it was supposedly to be what the Enochean Angels needed to come into the vortex and into the world, make it all balanced on all four sides, four elements, so that when the world ended, t
|
19551212
|
|
195540
|
Lifting a pear wedge to my lips, I hesitate and dip it into my bourbon instead. I notice a tiny sphere of liquid, suspended, glistening with the flame of the candle. The sweet, subtle scent tantalizes my senses. Careless, sticky fingers bring movement.…
|
195552
|
And the voodoo pins pinged as, folding and imploding, she was reduced to a petro-chemical puddle.
|
195544
|
A man on the sidewalk dressed as a hot dog hits a triangle dinner bell with a clang and yells for everyone to come and eat at Hot Dog Hot Dog. We were feeling more like fish and chips or spicy pulled pork, but there's something about how…
|
19551011
|
The man of a thousand faces was defunct.
|
195542
|
“Really? And you write…?” asked her breasts in the black dress, making excellent eye contact. He smiled at them.
|
195585
|
"There is something in the air. It makes people sick, makes them want to die. They
cannot inhale too deeply for fear that it will turn them mad."
|
195420
|
Rose, silence her desire when she, in this moment of desire, has passed into the grey and dawdles in the margins of such a hurtful unconventionality. Bend her astray from such a becoming. It would be a horror show: intimate, endless, and bloody, just the
|
195466
|
When she finally arrived it was like a cello playing inside me
|
1954105
|
That Dagwood is not a real person but a story told in dots. That Blondie is a male fantasy and will one day find her Nora Helmer.
|
1954218
|
|
19541713
|
and the mass exceeds the buoyancy/
and gravity pulls you back,
|
195446
|
The thing that really gets you about the house is the hurricane shutters. They're up already, even though it's the end of May, because Buck's uncle is back in Rhode Island for the summer and he's prepped the house on Key Largo like Armageddon is coming.
|
19541410
|
are my only real friends. They don't seem to mind my shuffling down the dirty sidewalks without acknowledging their mere scraggly presences like friendly tombstones. They are growing their hair out again. I've noticed that much. We've got a…
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