1727 8 4
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Our ink was disappearing. All of it.
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1727 4 2
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Maybe she was crying before she got on the coach at Marble Arch, settled in the seat across from me, but by the time we reach Victoria Gate, tears stream down her face, mouth open to receive her own sacrament.Indian, ageless in tasteful floral, a blue sweater despite summer…
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1727 3 3
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“What is the sickness that you have?” Colin behind the glass wondered.
“Too much world,” said Anise Fish.
“We have that in common.”
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1727 2 1
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...something darkly malevolent looming above him...
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1727 4 0
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“When I get like this? What about what you get like this? If you know my answer you know you look like my answer. Otherwise, how would you know my answer?”
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1727 8 8
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Today the color of the skyremakes my heart into somethingless willing to break, or to judge,and I am thankful for it. Acolor not unlike walking chestdeep in the ocean and seekingbeautiful clouds and thinking Iwill be back. Dreaming with the sky.Please stop lying to me. A…
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1726 7 7
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1726 5 1
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I sat on the corner of her desk ... Angela Merkel can be a sweetie when she wants to be.
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1726 7 4
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Mass media thought control, from consumer advertising to political sloganeering, is creating a new generation of irrational thinkers. If this trend continues, one day soon we may find ourselves under the control of some genius gone haywire.
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1726 8 6
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Your faded presence in sepia dream returns, firelight whispers and vanilla scented ash. We were a beautiful knot: sinew and hemp, burlap and magnolia petal, concrete and vapor. Gray kisses hovered overhead, misty…
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1726 7 6
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On Saturdays, we pull out big white poster boards, magic markers, and draw babies.
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1726 5 5
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Where you used to exist, there will only be spaces.
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1726 18 4
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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
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1726 1 0
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My only celebrity anecdote involves seeing Barbara Bush in the back of the Presidential limo ...
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1726 2 1
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Everybody knew it would happen. It didn’t happen exactly when or how they thought it would, but nonetheless it happened.
“I told you it would happen,” a bearded man told his wife.
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1726 1 0
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Priests didn’t just disappear, not without a reason, so there hadn’t been any doubt when Merrick was suddenly replaced. No one had said it, but they didn’t have to. And her boys, thank God—at least he’d done nothing to them.
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1726 3 1
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1725 11 9
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My wife is making lunch. I suggest leftover pizza. We are going over to the neighbor’s house for pizza tonight, my wife says. I tell her that’s okay. I like pizza.
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1725 8 2
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Entering that darkroom is like slipping through the barrel of a rifle.
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1725 2 1
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Phil doesn’t know anything. He thinks his truck is possessed by his dead mother.
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1725 0 0
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Everyone else in the bar was looking everywhere else: it was as though they were alone while Journey played loudly all around. “Streetlights, people,” she sang. Time didn't move. What she must be like while driving, singing to herself with the windows fog
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1725 0 0
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When he suggested to her that they make a sex tape, because that’s what everyone was doing, she wasn’t really surprised. And there was a truly repugnant part of it that fit in with her desire for moral self-flagellation.
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1725 5 3
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They try to incorporate a little of Ravel around their edges, the ones where their molecules bump off into other parallel realities, into other non-localities, into other potentials. She isn't buying it. She's tuned in. And she can tell.
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1724 23 8
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To be honest, I've always wanted to be black
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1724 18 13
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Taken by agents of the United States of America, Felix Six-Killer grows up at the Carlisle Indian School near Philadelphia, the city of brotherly love. His hair is cut and oiled. His shirts are starched and creased. For months he is startled to find himself seated for…
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1724 14 6
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Marge didn't eat lamb or pork.
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1724 0 0
|
There is a feeling in my hands,
fingers,
a restive, potential energy,
drawing inward, reaching
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1724 3 1
|
The world—the natural world—was terrible and beautiful in wartime. The leaves shuddered off trees. The pockmarked fields. The fallen brick chimneys. The way the birds heaved together in enormous flocks like rescue missions and then just as…
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1724 13 12
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1724 6 4
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We need to keep writing
because the great ones
aren’t always that great
We need to keep writing
to insure that the future
even has a future
We need to keep writing
because the wind won’t know how
or when to listen if we don’t
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