1703 1 1
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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…
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1703137
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a Ferris wheel gently rocks
its last riders
then dumps them to the ground.
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170278
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I wake up with the taste of mud in my mouth. Ashy, sulfurous, charred, with traces of rotten shellfish.
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170243
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Born, he stood up. He wore nothing as often as possible
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170233
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Waking in the middle of the night, tangled in the hotel sheets, I wanted to hear the story again: their pilot friend, the war, his specialty. "It's just a screw, son," Dad said, "nothing exotic."
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17021814
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Squirrels and mice fear her shadow
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170211
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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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170264
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And as you try to read, he appears.
No, not in front of you, but somewhere
just behind your eyes. You hear the sound
at the end of an argument, just before
the kiss; you see a shirt fall to the ground
in late summer; you watch him read
as his mouth
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170244
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... if they called her Mother, would she take them home and raise them?
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170200
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A Nonfiction behind the scenes look at how Mana works in the world of Arcana Magi.
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170294
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I didn’t have toothpicks. You looked at me as if it summed up everything about me.
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1702108
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Do you think that’s a good idea, you said. Sure, I said, as the men coiled up the anaconda and put it in a second truck that had arrived. You don’t think anyone will wonder what our motives are?
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170253
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I opened my switchblade mouth and sliced
through the scab of silence.
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170200
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"Being honest with me," said her teacher, "will hopefully allow you to be honest with yourself--writing is about being honest, and articulating that honesty."
It sounded like a riddle, and her teacher looked at her with the sanctimony of a wizard.
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170252
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Within a day, she had a scummy apartment which belonged to the government. It had cockroaches, which she was not used to. They churned her stomach, repulsive little things. Not even creatures. Two brains, she'd read: one in the head, one in the ass.
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170100
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Tonight was no remarkable night. The sun rose and set without question, children’s hearts broke with truth, around the world millions of people lost someone they cared about, millions people fell in love. It was an average day—it was unremarkable. It w
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170120
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Joe thought of Evelyn. Walt of Charley. Annabelle dreamt of Paolo in an autumn in Cordoba. Everyone who stayed at Mrs Jackanoe’s guest house in Room 17 and found the note also found some long forgotten feelings.
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170120
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I love reading about myself. There's nothing more gratifying than seeing my name in the paper, knowing so many people are interested in who I am and what I do.
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1701106
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In the small hours, when the crackling of the embers had stopped and the room had gone cold, the boiler kicked in and the pipes began to clang. He was half-roused out of his sleep, and then slipped under again to dream of Marley's fettered ghost.
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1701104
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170130
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Warren Jeffries had called me on the phone the night before and said, “Listen to this,” as he held the receiver out his bedroom window at the noise coming from the riot on campus. They were spraying gas over People’s Park, trying to get them to disp
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170188
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dicks, skulls and upside down crosses
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1701149
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1701115
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He looked straight at her, not to challenge her, but to better gauge what it was she would throw at him. Her eyes always darted to the thing right before her red, swollen fingers snatched at it, like a thing possessed.
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170031
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We learned to dance beneath a gazebo / in Spring Lake Park / We were fourteen
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1700114
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Mounds of earth and grassless ground
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170020
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we're only playing with this language you and I
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17001010
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Yellow Pages season is on us now, and Jimmy's drivin' a contract route. He'll head out to the San Joaquin where they print, and load ‘em in the back of his Tundra with the high side walls until the whole damned rig sags low,
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170089
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was washing her hands and lookingin the mirror and hoping tosee someone who could tell herthe way home again. She wasn'tsure why she should want to go there except maybe to findthe missing piece that had alwayseluded her. The lonely genius puton her clothes but the…
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1700188
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She’s there, in a tin, loosely wound
beneath sepia tissue paper, a braid
to worry in your fingers.
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