1899 10 3
|
She refuses to let her eyes cry. Her eyes played tricks on her and showed her one thing was really another. They don't deserve to cry.
|
1899 11 10
|
i never much liked Elvis
never did then never do now
he was no Kris Kristofferson
|
1899 2 1
|
The Bridge Barstow had not wanted to listen to Griff. Griff was not making the right decisions, or he thought Griff was not making the right decisions. Thought he was walking a…
|
1899 14 12
|
Behind them all, in the background, a tray of vodka tonics waits on a glass table, the limes losing color as they drown.
|
1899 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
|
1899 1 1
|
I'm not hungry now
The darkness swallows me as they eat.
I'm starving now
With a pain I can't defeat.
|
1898 1 0
|
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.
|
1898 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,…
|
1898 2 1
|
Two months after Peter moved out, it opened on the eastern-leaning boulevard, a stone's throw from the water. Caitlin heard about it from a friend at a bar three weeks after that, found that the concept wouldn't quietly settle in her mind, and made plans
|
1898 0 0
|
|
1898 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.
|
1898 4 4
|
She lets go and it slides back too slowly.
|
1897 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?
|
1897 9 6
|
The thunder rolled like an old Bob Dylan tour...
|
1897 9 9
|
“Have you ever thought what stars are made of?”
“No,” he said.
The man nodded seriously. “I hadn’t either. Not until I met the Star Catcher. He told me all the stars in the universe are actually coins. Coins! Big coins. Small coins. Different colors
|
1897 6 2
|
D'ya have to be so rough?
|
1897 6 6
|
But the best thing about Rebekah
was the way she floated always
beneath the scent of woodburn
and dusty Middle America,
|
1897 8 3
|
I was making good bread as a New York studio musician and jingle writer, anonymous back-room jobs.
|
1897 3 2
|
When VCRs were invented in the 1970s, the first big user segment was people who wanted to watch porno films in the comfort of their own home. Troy and Lynn's upstairs neighbor, James, an enlisted man in the Navy stationed at Pearl Harbor, had a vast porn…
|
1897 7 7
|
rump-a-rump, bat-a-tat, barumpabumbum
|
1897 9 1
|
She was skinny and with breasts like a wound up skein of yarn.
|
1897 0 0
|
Vito stood before the mirror combing his dark, freshly-cut hair. He trimmed his thick mustache, then buttoned his black vest. He liked its tight fit against his muscular torso. He had difficulty fastening the top button of his white shirt, the collar tigh
|
1897 11 5
|
What did they even invent
clothing for? I asked.
|
1897 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.
|
1897 6 4
|
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.
|
1897 5 3
|
He never bothered converting the tip money he pocketed at the Imperial Street 24 hour car wash as his world was replete with 25 cent transactions, making quarters the perfect coin for his realm.
|
1896 11 5
|
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…
|
1896 12 2
|
i miss you/
at times unbearably/
a dull ache that won’t quit
|
1896 19 10
|
A constellation appears in the shape of Van Gogh’s missing ear.
|
1896 2 2
|
That's what friends told him.He looks at the unpacked boxes around the apartment, hoping he hadn't packed any of her stuff in his haste.
|