1917 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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1917 12 9
|
What happened later that evening is unclear. When Mickey got back to his quarters, he was in good spirits. Buoyant even.
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1917 8 3
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I walked on hot coals. She got ahead of me. (228 words)
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1917 19 10
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A constellation appears in the shape of Van Gogh’s missing ear.
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1917 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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1917 11 5
|
What did they even invent
clothing for? I asked.
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1917 5 4
|
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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1917 13 10
|
He'd tend the door himself in high lace up boots, orange rhinestone hot pants, a tight black t-shirt, and black boa with orange swirl.
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1917 9 2
|
‘Look, look, Quark. Look here. Warthearm. A shiny warthearm.’ Maz was on his elbows and knees, his fat ass sticking out in their air like two cannon-balls ready to be shot off. He was peering at a long, shapeless earthworm, its skin translucent and i
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1916 13 7
|
Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.
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1916 10 5
|
It’s a song you knew once, begin to remember now: You’ve had this dream before.
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1916 1 1
|
The tiles begin inching toward him as soon as he moves. You've seen filings on glass. He's the magnet on the underside.
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1916 18 12
|
She had loved sleeping in Todd’s arms at night, hearing the soft tinkle of crystal above her when cool drafts moved through the house, his hand wandering over the swell of her belly.
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1916 1 1
|
Before the bills, before the fighting, before the need to blame something, there was a moment blown empty in the span of one doctor’s breath, a moment where bar nights and weekend benders had no meaning, a moment where the future was as blank as the bac
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1916 7 6
|
The World's Worst Mime stood there next to the iron carousel, portraying something, and the crowd understood none of it, except that whatever thing he was trying to portray was not being portrayed well at all.
|
1916 0 0
|
7
We sat in Darrell's truck in the deserted silent world of the down-trodden industrial area of West Berkeley, where no one in his right mind went at five in the morning. "Put the gun away, Darrell," I said. "I mean it."
"I can't help but keep
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1916 10 5
|
Half way through our cigarettes she told me her name was Charlotte.
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1915 9 7
|
Dark, green grass covered the pasture like millions of tiny fingers swaying in the heat.
|
1915 8 3
|
I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.
|
1915 8 6
|
you hear the knell of kindness
long before its cathedral voices -- a recessional --
barters better times.
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1915 12 7
|
wrenched its lower back trying so hard to lift too many stacked November clouds off the newly shaved prickly heads of the slowly freezing trees,like ring weights,and had to spend the last of its hours setting in a small square box in…
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1915 3 2
|
My server wore cat's eye glasses, a Wonderbra that made her breasts like the embryos from Alien wanting to burst their way out of her Hooters t-shirt but couldn't.
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1915 17 3
|
My swinging purse sent saucers tinkling to the tile and the copper-headed waitress flew over, swooping on the shatter, clutching clean forks like a handful of flowers.
|
1915 10 1
|
I told you that I have homicidal urges that alternate with ones of the suicidal kind. You flicked an imaginary speck of dust from your fat, fleshy forefinger with your ultra-flexible, wimpy thumb.
|
1915 4 2
|
She catches my head in a leg scissors and says for me to say Ninja Uncle. Instead, I bite into her flesh that only remotely tastes like a soft salt pretzel.
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1915 12 4
|
It rises rigid and plumb from its heavy base, the severity of line yielding to grace only at the throat where it crests into a subtly constrictive pinch.
|
1914 3 3
|
Do you know first hiss of batter hitting groundnut oil in a shallow pan, I ask, on a morning after a long, dream-ridden sleep?
|
1914 17 10
|
Ancestry.com The Liverpool census in 1851 lists him:Thirteen years old, Irish. Occupation: beggar. Only that. I will do more for him.I will see him in torn jacket and too-short pants singing all day of the fields, the cliffs,…
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1914 22 12
|
I liked the taste in my mouth, mint and cigarettes and fresh and filthy.
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1914 5 4
|
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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