1852 3 2
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So I’ll wait for her to clear all burden from her head and feel the ocean move us. Stand up, walk over to me and kiss me as we glided through open water.
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185252
|
|
185233
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How her camisole strap falls, her bare shoulder, her tattooed arm like an old, Coney Island mural. That dream she had: I bought her a fake, diamond necklace in Manhattan. She wanted to kiss me in the alley but was afraid of the rats
|
1852158
|
this reaching, this striving to love like it's there becoming something we need.
|
1852106
|
He is drilling the door of a safe to access the keys he locked inside.
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185254
|
|
185133
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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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18512613
|
|
1851133
|
As American as hotdogs and apple pie...
|
185176
|
That morning, four children appeared in front of the train, which was ready to depart
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18512111
|
Guys on safari wearing safari jackets shoot things all day, things with funny names …
|
185156
|
In Your Absence the yard-cat, Flower, has started sleeping on top of the fridge
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18501212
|
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1850106
|
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185066
|
A son packs his bag - bottled water, extra masks, and jerky. Mom paces behind him. “Don't go.”
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1850106
|
Post No Bills.
The Crouton Mavens.
United Burglars Union.
Crockpot Mistakes.
The Heavy Doors.
Fire In the Yurt.
Douche Baguettes.
Upsy-Daisey.
Schmazelhood.
Sidetrackia.
Flotsam and Jetsam.
Argyle Sox.
Roachmobile.
The Adulterer’
|
185000
|
Tak Tuckerby was a racecar driver. He could drive a racecar fast and handle a racecar perfectly. Unfortunately, Tak could only drive in one direction.
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18501010
|
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,
|
185097
|
I stand at the edge of the water naked as a newborn. Tiny ripples lick my toes.
|
185000
|
"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.
|
184962
|
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18491411
|
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184900
|
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184923
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|
184964
|
He had stared at the back of his neck for so long that images of his nape flashed into view randomly throughout the day like interfering signals from a station just out of reach, DESIRE CHANNEL, or something, reminding him of his skewed priorities, his fa
|
184965
|
They think Van Gogh heard music when he looked at his starry nights. Working at a Bingo parlor, you get to believing in a one-in-a-million shot just as much as you doubt the rarity of a sure thing.
I only worked part time at the bingo parlor because I ne
|
184821
|
Mrs. Noah eyed the thickening clouds from the front stoop. Noah was still out in the yard kicking up sand in disgust, arguing with himself the whole time. Piles of cedar timber lay strewn all about. Maybe if they’d lived even three days’ journey clos
|
184874
|
Things aren't going to get better are they? Would you like a sugar cube? No. Are you sure? I put acid on it. Oh, well yes, I guess then. Cool. Things might get better for a little bit then. Or horribly worse. Ha. Awesome. They taste like an orgasm…
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18482214
|
I thought each day died inside the clock.
|
1848123
|
I'm explicating Emily Dickinson when the alarm starts: three long, two short. Lockdown mode. Only there was nothing in the staff bulletin about a drill. So I tell the students to get down on the floor, away from the window. I open the classroom door and lock it from…
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