1839 2 2
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in cinematic snippets, ten-second scenes of twelve Sons …
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183975
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What's the weirdest thing you've ever used as a bookmark? I work in a library. I've seen that, and more.
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183942
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While I was still new at Black & Twigg, shortly before Thanksgiving, Percy brought me a handwritten memo to type, the subject “Turkey Hunt,” addressed to all Black & Twigg employees in the San Francisco office from management. It said that the firm…
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18391814
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Squirrels and mice fear her shadow
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183974
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“Americans like beer, right?” he asks. “It’s not acceptable for a woman to buy beer.” He proffers it in a brown paper bag.
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1839135
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That led to the first aid box on the bed at 3 in the morning, but what about those veggies?
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1839107
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She can never say why, but guilt rides her bones
like the spirit. She rubs worry raw.
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183943
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When she told me to write itI did; I scratched out what I wanted to sayin quick print letters. Not all of it.I could never get it all out in an hour but thegeneral idea was definitely there. We had to finish it in the rain becausewe couldn't light the…
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183831
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Everything is painted black that isn’t glass, velvet, neon, or chrome. The club is cold, and the DJ who broke-up with me while I forgot I was stoned is spinning his favorites to an empty floor. Endings have a rhythm. I heard this one coming. I can hear it
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183864
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Outlined against the thinly layered darkness of the room, there is a silhouette of a small boy with his feet pulled up to the chin, failing to hold its own against the thousand stares from the deep violating the stillness of his room, their long familiarity with the…
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183832
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Hair today...gone tomorrow
The sun beats down
on my balding crown.
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183800
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Poppy de Witte was content to spend her summers in Cape Cod, where her family owned a small beach house considerably less stifling than their spacious apartment on Park Avenue.
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183882
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It was so hot we walked out on our husbands. There were reasons, we supposed. They left the refrigerator doors open all day, grabbing beers when they passed by, tossing the sticky caps upon counters. They drove their Metropolitans to buy food, leaving th
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183831
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It's Granny hauling her crooked soul into heaven. Guess who I stole that image from?
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183811
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This seems to be what happens to the Corporate Zombie Cowboys. They get eaten by their own Zombie Kings.
The hardest part is I can see them coming, I am on the menu, and I cannot avoid them.
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183897
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the array of regularly spaced wavering human forms floating upright seems to extend endlessly in all directions.
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18371616
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To See Who's There Able these days to search through centuries, I click, scribble, cut and paste, skim, reject, record, resurrect a wet stone wall, the smell of burning peat. Bob's your uncle, Peggy's …
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183784
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SPOT ON OUR LUNG We sense A stillborn dawn. A furtive, lurking gray, A sleight of dusk, eclipse, that follows Us. TITANIC'S LANTERNS Upon My rain-glazed panes Wet lights from neighbors glow Like lantern beams from shipwrecks…
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183764
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For a person you don't know, a stranger with a lot of place, you think much of him.
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183742
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‘Didn't you used to have a daughter?'
The tense and phraseology jarred, but he was inarticulate not ignorant, awkward rather than unaware of how it sounded and she smiled at him.
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183700
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Under the dirty orange glow of sodium streetlights, the glistening pavement looks slick, but it’s only just wet. The mid-November temperature is cool—quite mild, actually, for this late time of year—still hovering in the upper 30s—so far posing only the
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1837108
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Nothing good comes from being lowered into a well to take a photograph, boy
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1837103
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Melinda said forget the kegger last night, what we’re about to do will help you figure out whether you want to apply here.
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183792
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It's the outrage of the red monkey at her feet,
And the nude thirteen-year-old woman sitting upright
In the blue velvet chair, and the hints of blue at her navel,
And at her lips and belly and crotch, that so upset Paris.
Gauguin had his nerve
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183633
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Things are a little out of hand. Information fills room after room after room. I have no bloody idea where I am. I have your photo, but the navigational coordinates are difficult to interpret. Where the hell are you, anyway? I don't like mazes — too much like…
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183631
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Your place is extra.
No it isn't.
It is, baby.
The man was as aroused by her discomfort as he had been annoyed by her laugh. She wasn't laughing now.
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183673
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Susie watched the record, her mouth agape just slightly, the spinning vinyl unveiling the powerful sound of a voice she'd wanted to hear her whole life.
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183684
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He had become an accessory to a murder.
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183633
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Some trick of the morning light makes the tattoo on her ankle look like the burn from a branding iron. She had watched her father as he slept last night. He was handsome and innocent, like a baby boy.
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183650
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So back to Berkeley we went, and started our own commune in a huge rented house on Derby Street where we could tear the fences down in all the neighborhood backyards. We created what we called “The Meadow.”
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