1720 8 4
|
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.
|
1720119
|
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?
|
172072
|
Can't cope.
Got no hope.
Got no dope.
Call the Pope.
Get the rope.
|
171963
|
“3.9 million dollars,” she whispered to the window.
|
171921
|
My legs hung over the bed as I leaned over the food tray. Under my left arm was Adele, my toy cat. I wondered if the staff told the boy of my ritual of always feeding Adele first before I gave the spoon to myself.
|
1719188
|
Overnight, I felt drunk, as if headed for hangover, but I hadn't drunk enough to cause it. What caused it? Superstitions dialed in sleep.
|
17191813
|
My uncle looks into the bleached eye of his cat and asks
"What happened to my ear?"
The meerkat’s eye replies:
"You had cancer. Remember?
They had to cut off your ear to save you."
|
171900
|
The desk calendar was brilliant, unused. The problems with it didn't begin until March.
|
171900
|
Once upon a time, not so long ago in Los Angeles, Jack and Jill Woodman’s father remarried.
|
171921
|
It will only be minutes before I can slip out of this shelter, but time has suspended itself like a web over the sky. I look up and see a break in the clouds moving north from the furthest tip of Lake Erie. Rain turns to drizzle, other guests arrive toget
|
171800
|
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.
|
1718103
|
“No one likes an indecisive sexual partner.”
|
171854
|
just wondering what one does when age and job skills narrow one's career options
|
171853
|
“No names,” she said. “I am the mysterious woman, and you are the handsome stranger.”
|
1718118
|
But it all works out. I guess. Truth is something I'm sure I've never seen before, but the more time goes on, the Less I'm inclined to believe in it. Still I don't want To be one of those giving the finger to God And begging for a showdown with an…
|
171822
|
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…
|
171821
|
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
|
171876
|
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.
|
171864
|
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.
|
171811
|
|
171820
|
The morning sun rose up over the flat prairie, and the powdery snow crunched as you walked on it, and the air was so crisp it hurt as you took a breath. That is good, I thought. That is how you knew you were alive, and I was truly very alive, and there was not much to do so…
|
1718149
|
I never thought I’d miss the sound of church bells, reminding me of my sudden apostasy,
faintly ringing over the rumpus where even the birds can’t get a word in edgeways.
|
1717106
|
|
17171713
|
and the mass exceeds the buoyancy/
and gravity pulls you back,
|
171773
|
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.
|
171711
|
I. The girl within the sleeping woman dreams her dream of ending. To her comes the cowgirl with no kids: she's riding high atop her turquoise horse, steady by its braided mane. Silver pistols holstered. The girl in the woman in the dream she's dreaming…
|
171782
|
Three months had passed since the grease fire melted Jasmine's face.I sat beside her on the hospital bed and held her clamy hand as she trembled. "No more stir-fry," I joked. The doctor and nurse faked a chuckle. Jasmine might have, but the bandages muffled…
|
1717124
|
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.
|
17171816
|
I keep encouraging him to write stories not poems, but I think he enjoys writing things that don’t fit together. Things that stumble.
|
17162410
|
Clayton had a grin like the hand of a beast that stretched as long as her gravel road...
|
