1619 5 5
|
Is it you with that fucking gold and platinum yacht?!?
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16191010
|
I watch from the cabin window the death of the sun, hear the howl of the new-born storm.
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161954
|
I grew up in Detroit, and even though I haven't lived there since I was 18, I'm still a Michigander at heart. I'm also a (retired) bankruptcy attorney.You can probably tell where this is going. I own a Detroit municipal bond. It's a sewer bond, which means…
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16192112
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"the rum tasted of hibiscus blossoms"
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161921
|
In the dark, alone after she was gone, he would whisper her name into his pillow and fight the tears more out of shear exhaustion than anything else. He had mourned for her even before she had passed, as he watched helpless while the disease marched slowly and…
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161910
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Either they got married in the church dressed in their mothers’ bridal gowns, gaudy and ancient dresses with off-white lace faded from years of hanging in the attic, or they snuck down to city hall...
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16191010
|
One day we went for a hike. We climbed a small mountain. It’s called Mission Peak. We got about halfway up a steep trail, decided that was far enough. We embraced. She said “I love you,” and I said, “I love you, too.”
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16191610
|
Two stories, limestone, gray shutters,next to the park.“We almost bought that house,” my father always saideach time we drove by.He doesn't go down that street anymore.What could have been taunts him from the sidewalks —two little girls and a bucket of…
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161999
|
Your honour stinks of failed fishing trips to Galway.
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16191211
|
When I no longer know you, what signal will you give to remind me that you and I once loved?
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161854
|
You left your quiet life for a home in the city.
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161840
|
Children, afraid of dogs cried. There was uproar of melee. Children strained at their leashes to get away.
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1618113
|
“Your husband is an asshole, isn’t he?” he asks.
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161898
|
We've come this far. That's all we know. We've watched others reach their abrupt ends. They've given us this exact moment and we've taken it from them, sometimes without thinking. It's time for the next communication. I know what concern is…
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161832
|
All I wanted was to love her.
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161896
|
Gather 'round children, For it's high time to tell, The story of a strange man With a horrible, awful smell. For this is a story More disgusting than most. This is the gruesome tale Of Gary Von Gross. With a house made…
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161897
|
God's real name is Frank, and he stops by all the time. He tries to dump that cheap Xmas candy on us.
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161821
|
“Excuse me–where are the pig’s feet?”
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161885
|
Without warning his eyes expertly navigated into a closed position setting off the dream machine long without power until this very second.
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161854
|
On the television, a round woman sits amongst the mannequins. She wears a headband. She describes some awesome jewelry.
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16187530
|
Joaquin Phoenix has inspired me to quit writing and purse my true lifelong passion.
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161800
|
Do not listen to Christmas music out of season. Unless of course you want to ruin Christmas music. Forever.
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161878
|
of any cautionary tale is somewhere found rolling around in your own sweet voice for me. Your sound's still listing there inside my wobbly head. My head is too often in my open hands, grinning behind its face-mask like a parade on…
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161700
|
Track One Johnny Burkemeister, lead vocals and flutist of the band Albatross Antics, sits on his bed thinking in silence. His elbow rests on his knee, and his palm on his forehead with his fingers running through his dirty-blonde hair. He is staring at a copy of Paste…
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161700
|
...dogs snapping at the brush as it spins this way, that way, eluding the slavering jaws by a hairs breadth. The fox twists and rolls, tries every trick, every last desperate one.
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161732
|
He lit another reed - a new score orchestrating in his head - his thoughts swirling around the older man; there was something else going on here…
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1617106
|
I had a meeting with the editor of a well-known magazine. She said, “I think your paradigm got stuck up your monomyth.” “Oh dear. Is that bad?” “Bad? You want to be a writer, don't you?” “Well, I did. I'm not so sure now.…
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16172214
|
Over the years, his face
began to alter
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161786
|
We are prisoners of anticipation.
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161721
|
Cammie Richard's house was just like all the others in Wilchester. The exterior was vaguely reminiscent of the Dutch style; gray stone with cross beams of dark wood, with two stories and a bay window. Her yard was fertilizer green, with a giant STRATFORD FOOTBALL…
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