1370 8 2
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The midsummer sky is black above us when I hear Dad say my name, quiet like I’ve never heard before. I let my hands drop away from my face and crawl towards him.
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137073
|
Ancient erections loom aloft
ringed by decades
centuries for some
in gnarled scabs of pine.
|
137000
|
I walked around the mountains and the gravel roads that once were my home. The rain made tiny rivers in the clay that ran hard and fast, and I splashed in them until my feet were saturated and my hair was stuck to my face and in my mouth salty and I cried
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13702114
|
Walking to class, Paula routinely fishes around in her purse to be sure the condom she thinks of as a close friend, even naming it Rhonda, is in there to help her avoid a pregnancy yet, even so, Paula admits that sometimes she daydreams in that boring economics class,…
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13702214
|
Over the years, his face
began to alter
|
13701110
|
Over his usual ham sandwich and Pepsi for lunch Uncle Waldo used to often say, “Going out in the dead of night without a flashlight is dangerous” and I'd nod but I kept slipping out, sneaking down my secret path and take a dip in the rich neighbor's pool because…
|
1370108
|
Satchmo sings a love song over the sound system. People read books, tap keyboards, drink coffee, eat cake. In Barnes & Noble—more a coffee shop these days than a bookstore—I am thinking about my dad and his stomach cancer.The terror he…
|
137021
|
You were gone, long gone, and I could no longer smell your scent as I walked through the empty house. I couldn't bring myself to unpack the boxes, and they lurked like a forest of overgrown drab Legos.
|
1370189
|
|
1370129
|
All young and loud and big and I swear her face like a lighthouse lamp, glowing—I remember thinking, ‘She’s drunk at nine in the morning.’
|
137074
|
I married a penguin. Her waddle made for a scenic view.
|
137032
|
your olive-pitting thumbs
|
137032
|
Knowing this is too long for here I won't be crushed or enraged if no one has the time to read it. Also, it's not fiction.
|
137044
|
“I changed religions for that baby.”
|
1370104
|
Come, bring your sadness
to the precipice of my body,
bury it within me like a tool
|
136932
|
nine
seven
thousand
debut
novel
words
i love you
thx for reading
by
#aksania
#xenogrette
#MINE
#novella
#birdking
#pixies
#ASPARAGUS
#SPACETRASHVIOLET
#SEX
#DOROTHYNOTROBOT
|
136998
|
I think I remember now why people write poetry.
|
1369105
|
He was instantly on her, pulling at her nightgown
|
13691716
|
saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice
|
136932
|
Her students read their work aloud in class, haltingly, sometimes proudly, and their willingness amazed Miriam. They were immigrants and retirees, carpenters, security guards, Indian nannies, Iranian escapees. She loved their odd word choices, the lack of editorial impulse.…
|
136964
|
Corina's skin is a circus tent. Her red-striped peppermint scars are a reminder of Christmas and family traditions. The obedient poodles of her childhood dreams jumped through hoops of fire until they became bald and grotesque. Poor dears, now, they no longer yap. They…
|
13691610
|
|
136923
|
BABY MOUSE She and the baby squeeze into the neon blue star-studded rocket ship in front of K-Mart, a tight fit because the baby's still inside her and the ship is made for under ten year olds and the steering wheel dents her stomach and the baby backs up and…
|
13692218
|
The end will film itself/
in charred, eviscerated bodies
|
136942
|
In a small, cozy diner lived a homemade meatloaf. The meatloaf spent its days lounging on a warm plate with some mashed potatoes and sweet corn. Together they watched television, argued about sports, and ate blueberry pie...
|
136811
|
Background
foreground
life in the middle
|
136874
|
Truman sits in his car on an early Tuesday morning. He rolls down both front windows down, but despite the infusion of fresh air, the car still smells of stale meat and sickness.
|
136842
|
Although badly educated, and although the Michoacána fought to deny it, she held the complex notion that borders are not abrupt lines, simple artifacts of geography and cartography.
|
136881
|
The thing Bentley remembered most about her was she had no body odor. None.
|
1368134
|
her skin the color of honey sugary sweet eyes like long-forgotten pathways to a place I can only just recall her hair in twists and her hands touching it fondling it tucking it back behind her ears as she rubs her legs against each other crosses them at…
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