1653 10 10
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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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1653129
|
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.’
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165363
|
During the day we search for truffles. I have a pig named Henry. He is a big help. He wanders the forest sniffing for truffles like a parable of porcine inquisitiveness. He knows what he is doing. He is not just a pig. Nor ordinary pig. He is a French pig
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165332
|
”My goodness how that child nurses hope,” Edward’s Grandad would often say, “were it not for her where indeed would this family be?”
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165374
|
It was impossible
that you wouldn't love me
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165397
|
the array of regularly spaced wavering human forms floating upright seems to extend endlessly in all directions.
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165298
|
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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165221
|
"Now, I'm not no Holocaust Denier . . . I just think it was a little bump in the road! Like Reagan said about Watergate . . . 'Mistakes were made,' and all. Well, shoot . . .…
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16521611
|
he thought of her / longingly
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1652184
|
Why is the sky grey he asked meI don't know, I saysudden flashes of light snowbloat the cloudssea gulls are squawkingexpect them to peck at my headI have nothing to feed them
|
165210
|
They're bound to wonder what sort of offspring we'll hatch. We've done the tests, we are cross-fertile.
|
165264
|
You're thinking I don't have a conscience, right? I'm asking you.
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1652123
|
|
16522112
|
the birth of a long, dark age//
where the wealthy will be eaten by the poor/
and the poor will be eaten by disease
|
165200
|
But I am quite sure,
in my loneliness,
there is nothing that aches inside me more,
than a desire to persist.
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165162
|
We’re on our way out, my brother and me, to the graveyard.
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16511210
|
Another siege/
with kamikaze fervor.
|
165175
|
I am standing in the kitchen, kneading dough, because this is one way to say sorry. This is way to say, things will be different now, look.
|
165155
|
Where you used to exist, there will only be spaces.
|
165186
|
We are prisoners of anticipation.
|
165120
|
I try again. "You can make a big cup by putting your hands and fingers together, see?"
He glares at me. "A giant could make a big cup," he says. "A giant could make a giant cup."
I thought so before, and I’ll say it again. A little genius.
|
16512613
|
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16511212
|
They'd taken so much: ivory, rubber, copper, gold. Wealth for the grabbing. No remorse.
|
1651189
|
|
165100
|
I would be the mortal to hand justice to God. It wouldn’t come in the form of steel from a blade or by gun powder of a revolver, but by my disbelief...
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165132
|
There’s no sky like that, with twisting clouds shot up into by cypress trees that are so like dark green flames, leaping out of the earth as if a dark green oily pool were on fire underground, and this was all that could escape, was its essence.
And a
|
165100
|
When my feet touched the ground on the tarmac at Bagram I cannot begin to describe the feeling I had. It was as if God had spoken to me directly, whispering in the cold mountain air: “Son of Marjan, I welcome you.” The feeling took hold and overcame m
|
165022
|
I've never really been impressed with authors that write long teary-eyed novels about people dying of terrible diseases or uplifting stories about the armless boy who made the wrestling team.
|
16501010
|
I watch from the cabin window the death of the sun, hear the howl of the new-born storm.
|
165020
|
It takes almost an hour before I drift to sleep on the bus. When I wake up in Crescent City, I’m surprised. Maybe I was going somewhere else in my sleep. Walking out of the station, it feels like a strange place. Somewhere I’ve never been before. The
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