1813 2 1
|
Tara was so tired. The bus connection was off again, and her ankles were so swollen. Maybe it was the heat, the humidity, she wasn't sure… but things were definitely getting worse. She sighed. At least the bus shelter had an empty spot on the bench, so as she…
|
1812 2 3
|
“How scared?” Mikey said, not wanting to find out, and already looking pretty nervous.
|
1812 0 0
|
And it whispered like any wood. And the blade moaned when he got too deep and tried to cut too much. And as the dead parts of him came off, in tendrils and dust, the man's chest began to move, like the hands around his heart had let go.
|
1812 2 1
|
It wasn't that I couldn’t imagine it. Rather, I could almost conjure the choreography to mind. One of his hands would graze at the side of my face. One finger would extend and stroke me, from my temples to my chin. He would press my body against something
|
1812 1 1
|
Life is hard and toes are fragile, which means that by the time you reach middle age, you've probably broken one. Or two. I recently broke a toe when I got out of bed in the middle of the night and tripped over a shoe. When friends and family consoled me with…
|
1812 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
|
1812 2 3
|
But they all know the parking prayer...
|
1812 4 5
|
When the city froze and the darkness began to arrive ahead of rush hour, my pills worked; Butterfly Hu’s did not. In a double blind trial, you can’t know who gets the miracle, and who gets the sugar.
|
1812 13 2
|
The child closed her eyes again. Outside was sparkling, sharp looking, when she blinked he’d be here, like when she went to sleep and found outside had been whitened with snow. She closed her eyes and opened them, then closed them again. When she opened
|
1812 11 9
|
Five years ago, on January 15, 2009, Flight 1549 took off for Charlotte, North Carolina and, 3 minutes later, made an emergency landing in the Hudson River, with no serious harm to anyone but the geese who caused the problem. (They were liquefied into something…
|
1812 4 1
|
Butchie was the one who heard about the bonfire happening over on Harrison Avenue.
|
1811 0 0
|
He came to us with wandering tales of wild things
Savage, biting, slashing, tearing
A violent voice boomed becoming of beasts
|
1811 6 3
|
That’s what she left behind, and I put it in my mouth and swallowed.
|
1811 18 16
|
I keep encouraging him to write stories not poems, but I think he enjoys writing things that don’t fit together. Things that stumble.
|
1811 4 1
|
The DC-9 bounced in the turbulence over the north Pacific waking the dozing Ben Clarone.
|
1811 18 12
|
|
1810 13 7
|
Here’s how you do it. First you get a ladder, a long one.
|
1810 1 1
|
A famous author and an inspired writer meet at a coffee shop, both looking for inspiration. The patrons there don’t know if this meeting is by accident or design, but they are in awe of Fame.
|
1810 10 7
|
Uncle Tee, a dog handler, taught all the camp children their basics: how to "make change" from a $10-bill, how to slip a hand into ladies' purses, and how to make their smiles warm and endearing.
|
1810 7 4
|
The investigator starts by accumulating facts, as many facts as he can. He sifts through them with meticulous precision, leaving no leaf unturned, no page unread.
|
1810 22 8
|
The eggs got badder as the cook got madder
|
1810 2 2
|
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…
|
1810 12 8
|
|
1810 19 12
|
A screaming comes across the brain
|
1810 10 5
|
Half way through our cigarettes she told me her name was Charlotte.
|
1810 11 9
|
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?
|
1809 9 4
|
|
1809 7 6
|
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…
|
1809 11 9
|
Librarians are hiding something. What is it?
|
1809 18 16
|
I can’t take my eyes off a tall blonde with green eyes. I catch her eye.
|