1858 22 17
|
Sometimes cats had to die or dogs
|
185801
|
They drifted for months, locked between the vast merciless blue and the withering sun. Their faces blistered and their minds bleached and weary. They conspired in the shadows, drew plans in the sawdust, they grew confident and…
|
1858118
|
In his head he thinks oh whatever when I wake this time I shall have a very fine discussion with Someone special, oh but finding meaning in anything nowadays that's Just too much rich flattery, isn't it, filthy mirror? Inside His head's…
|
185812
|
And I just want to say that my morning song is better than yours. I want you to hear it buzzing in me like an old radiator. I want you to do what you’ve done before. To press your ear against the skin and listen for the static.
|
185821
|
so one time the Holy Ghost come down to Stumptown
|
185872
|
leaning over the banister, her Christmas waist making the wood swoon and creak, a warning sign if there ever was one...
|
185811
|
Graeme King was disturbed. He sat at his desk feeling his bloodshot eyes rolling backwards, impatient, leaden in their sockets. Could he believe what he had just seen? Surely not. Surely the late nights spent absorbing the relentless pulse of his computer screen…
|
18581310
|
I will not tell you that your anger is wrong, child.
|
185800
|
His mouth smiled but his icy eyes did not. "You like it?," he asked with a thin deflated voice. "Old family recipe. Enjoy."
|
18581011
|
The man of a thousand faces was defunct.
|
185865
|
weep or go stark mad your amanuensic fool will bury your words
|
1858103
|
A crash, a loud tear screams through the house. A coffee table continues its dutiful life as a bitch.
|
185897
|
"Think of every sexual partner you've ever had. I'm nothing like them. Unless you've ever slept with a bulimic German cellist called Elsa."
|
1858107
|
Newhouse returned his gaze to his wet palm, which he lifted to his nose with suspicion, sniffed again and again, then struggled to move out from under the growing stream.
|
1857108
|
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,…
|
18571819
|
Where we live, at the edge of the foothills at the east edge of town, fire is always a worry during the summer, and this has been an exceptionally dry year.
|
1856134
|
tell me about the time you lived in Carolina, and what my smile does
for you.
|
185654
|
Yeah I walk itWithout a companionOr friendI walk the world aloneIt seems right to meI don't like the moviesMost television showsOr most popular musicI walk the world aloneUnable to buildAn emotional attachmentWith anyoneI walk the world aloneWith beer as My…
|
185664
|
|
185641
|
Cos I play hard that’s why. Everyday hard. You want someone who ain’t an everyday player ? Try our Closer. But ain’t his fault he’s always sat there in the pen, like he’s taken root. His number lines rely on the rest of the team. So he’s flatl
|
185675
|
skies electric blue,/limpid dewy air, the world/framed by a small farm.
|
185676
|
Now, the Midwest was ashes. The oceans were covered with hydroponics plant growth.
|
185663
|
Her skin is muddy earth/
I'd gladly play in.
|
185610
|
Artie invited me to go with him to pick out a Halloween Pumpkin for the house. I had recently moved into a communal living situation and we were still getting to know each other. Artie was the kind of person who made a special occasion out of ordinary life. Why…
|
18561911
|
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…
|
185511
|
Amid the swerve and pulse of hungry bodies Girma Dali picks his spot, a tissue-wide patch of net where's he going to strike. A green-jerseyed defender closes in on him his brute momentum unleashed like a kamikaze pilot swooping into enemy orbit, his lunging body makes…
|
185500
|
Darrell looked at me, then down at himself. He was still in his wet underwear. "What is this?" he said, looking up again. "Where in the hell was I?" He shook his head. "It was weird, Philip. Boy, that was one wild dream."
"That was no d
|
185512
|
[DO NOT READ BETWEEN THIS LINE ... CITIZEN!]
|
185584
|
He wrote, wrote, wrote with the sharp eye of an eagle...
|
1855107
|
She thrust her proboscis through seven layers of dermis and began to suck, filling her belly with his Welbutrin and Xanax infused blood.
|
