1938 9 7
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Dark, green grass covered the pasture like millions of tiny fingers swaying in the heat.
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1938 12 7
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Emma and I were in a shabby part of town with vacant lots and overgrown yards, and I wondered if something would happen as we loped beside Tom, who was slow-witted and 21. We were 13 . . .
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1938 0 0
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The girl who was me stands in a sandbox with upraised arms, honey hair tied with olive yarn in two ponytails. She says nothing, but wants me to pick her up.
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1938 1 0
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As Gino exited the supermarket, plastics bags in tow, he began doing curls with his right arm. He’d been doing this for years, reasoning that he might as well get some exercise during the walk home.
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1938 7 2
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"My dear man. We are not friends we are symbiotic."
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1938 3 1
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We’re all competitive and drunk.
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1938 22 12
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I liked the taste in my mouth, mint and cigarettes and fresh and filthy.
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1938 11 10
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i never much liked Elvis
never did then never do now
he was no Kris Kristofferson
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1938 3 3
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And him, now there’s a him. I’d like if he were perfect, but perfect things never are. My daughter says it best, when she contrasts the two of you, “Daddy worked to forget about his problems. When he works, it makes him feel like there is a problem.”
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1938 3 2
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Harold Smithe awoke that Tuesday morning precisely at 6 am. He did this every day for as long as he could remember. Even on the weekends when his schedule varied. Well, varied slightly. He lay in bed trying to wake up and mulled over the things he needed to accomplish for…
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1937 11 5
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A compliment is candy to the heartbroken, oxygen to a suffocating flame. The best hunter picks his prey carefully, selecting his line like an archer pulling an arrow from a quiver, quickly and efficiently, then flick! the line cuts through the air and…
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1937 0 0
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He was jolted awake from his light slumber by his pod crash landing. Landing? That means he found a planet. He opened the pod and got out to stretch his legs. He looked around. "Wow, and I thought Aleria was advanced. This is amazing."
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1937 10 6
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In the small hours, when the crackling of the embers had stopped and the room had gone cold, the boiler kicked in and the pipes began to clang. He was half-roused out of his sleep, and then slipped under again to dream of Marley's fettered ghost.
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1937 1 0
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and we got the apartment, which was on a street that backed up on an alley situated, as it turned out, right across the alley from the very first Hari Krishna house, where they would wake up at four every morning and begin their maddening chanting: Hari K
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1937 8 2
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“What are you doing after this?” I asked, faking a self confidence I didn’t truly posses at fifteen. I didn’t seem to realize that I wasn’t old enough for any of the clubs they’d go to. I’d heard that fans sometimes followed the band to an after-party.
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1937 2 1
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People crawling up out of the chimney, then onto the roof, then sliding down it and off over the edge disappearing from view.
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1937 6 5
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I know she's a dog person, as she owns one.
“No, my asshole ex-boyfriend wanted one and then he left me with it.” she admits, then adds,
“I don't even like dogs. All dogs are needy.”
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1937 10 5
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Half way through our cigarettes she told me her name was Charlotte.
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1937 9 7
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leaves of a season/float into a brook among/bubbles fit to burst.
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1936 9 6
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The thunder rolled like an old Bob Dylan tour...
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1936 4 2
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Two people are talking. They are both wearing hats.
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1936 15 9
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Love free of independence is a savage, hungry beast
Phantoms grasping, sweating, gasping 'till her mind could not be freed
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1936 0 0
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1936 1 0
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After nine months, I was granted early parole...
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1936 6 4
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Some people might find it strange and a bit obsessive to mow their lawn every day, but to Shiram it was an irreplaceable part of his daily existence.
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1936 8 2
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the dogneck gave no support
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1936 5 4
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While space and time opened up for us, the ground accelerated its attempts to devour the astronaut. Grasses grew up around his edges. Seeds propagated in the folds of his suit, tendrils found their way into the mysterious holes for the missing hoses that
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1936 14 12
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Behind them all, in the background, a tray of vodka tonics waits on a glass table, the limes losing color as they drown.
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1936 11 9
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What if I never feel like a real artist? What does it even mean to be a "real" artist? What if nobody ever cares about what I make?
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1935 12 5
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I can’t stop looking at the burly man to my left with the blue lips and three-inch mustache. He orders his fourth whiskey. He laughs at my melancholy like it was a flat thing--a dead animal to strip of its fur. Why be melancholic when you can float on whi
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