1826 11 6
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She thinks she trusts this man; she wants to trust him. His face reminds her of a man who once took care of her on an airplane when she was a kid traveling by herself.
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182683
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45s I’ve kept wrapped in newspaper in the attic. These are all mine. Some doubling up in sleeves. Some pushing tears in the seams.
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182642
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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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182623
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But they all know the parking prayer...
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182641
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The DC-9 bounced in the turbulence over the north Pacific waking the dozing Ben Clarone.
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182523
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Ride me, I say, and you never hear. No matter how I shine my padding, it's never what draws you to me. I only get to touch you when you feel guilty, and most of the time, it's only through shorts and graduated compression socks. What does my desire matter? It all comes out…
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182554
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just wondering what one does when age and job skills narrow one's career options
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1825108
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"What mouths could not say, hands did."
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182522
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Her wrinkles came into focus, the sort of old woman's face photographed for coffee tables and art galleries and corporate boardrooms, for prize juries and grant selection committees, and Luc searched his formidable memory for an exact match. Over the long, tedious…
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182586
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The old man behind the counter recognizes fear and anxiety in the boy's face, and sees the brown paper bag clenched in his other white-knuckled hand.
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182522
|
Jacob could tell it was a man he had just walked past, a broken man with an olive green Vietnam era military jacket, a man who had probably served his country as honorably as anyone chosen at lottery and forced to kill for a subsistence wage…
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182533
|
My love for him like wax wings/
so long they stretched eternal—
beating in the sky, grazing peaks,
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182584
|
In the middle of the floor squatted a sway-backed butcher block that appeared to have been chopped upon with such force as to make it cower.
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182500
|
Once upon a time, not so long ago in Los Angeles, Jack and Jill Woodman’s father remarried.
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1824137
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Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.
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1824133
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The spoken world is bigger than I had ever imagined it to be, wonderful and relentless and unforgiving, and to be a part of it was my grandest childhood fantasy. I don’t know what the world sees me as now, but inside I will always be a stutterer.
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182430
|
It started (or maybe ended) with the boot flying off the balcony and bouncing in the dead grass in front of our building.
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182494
|
“Why do I have to sign these cards? You haven't written your dreaded holiday letter yet.” “I told you not to complain or you'd be the one writing it. And addressing the envelopes. Then you can stamp them and take them to the Post Office!” …
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182400
|
A Nonfiction behind the scenes look at how Mana works in the world of Arcana Magi.
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182411
|
The elevator door opened, and Tom ("The Baffler") Frank found himself confronted by Jesu bar Joseph, who opined: "You're WORTHLESS!" and recommended: "Why dontcha PULL your PANTS down, and CUT your COCK off!"
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182498
|
We know a poem isn't going to stop you From invading our town. It won't get you to Listen to our birds any more than to our Sunsets. That's not why we do it. We know A poem isn't going to break the blade of Your knife like an…
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18241812
|
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182376
|
I'm a librarian. A reader. I identify as a four-eyed person. I've always worn glasses. I got my first pair in the second grade. It was a miracle! The blurry world I'd inhabited all my life suddenly came into focus. I could see the blackboard! I could read street signs! I…
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182331
|
I don’t know what happened. One day I was in her room, groping the various drawers for hidden condoms, glimpses of women’s undergarments and I found a spectacular pair of blue lace panties
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182397
|
master carvers do not reduce with carving.
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182373
|
Looking at his pale and pimpled flesh, he was repulsed by his flaccid and lifeless member. The accompanying bits, dangled about far from his frame as the summer heat drew them away from his sweaty and unwashed body.
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182320
|
This is an older story that was inspired by research on naming conventions while trying to find record of my own ancestors in the Ukraine. I did not find them. Instead I was inspired to write this.
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18231914
|
We all//
fall short and fail.
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182341
|
Cassie cradles the loaf-sized phone – pinker than any girl – and dials. he's not wearing a hat says the phone and we all scratch our pencils on the boy-list.
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182364
|
But who am I kidding. We aren’t in love. Being in love is for high schoolers or middle aged divorcees exploring their sexuality. Our love is real, sweaty, backwards, forwards, angry, trusting. We love as you only can after seeing someone at their best and
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