1753 4 0
|
“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?”
|
175354
|
He reveled in the chase, giddy when just out of arm’s reach. When to catch him, that was the question.
|
175397
|
It sometimes happens a student remains a friend long after you both have abandon academe.
|
175300
|
|
175244
|
And you lean forward and all of that caffeine anxiety rises up in your throat, the pressure in your jaw, a series of weights and pulleys on your teeth and at the back of your mouth. So when you open your mouth to talk, no sound is made, only the sound of
|
1752147
|
|
17521510
|
Weddings, engagements etc.
|
1752128
|
He said his wife levitated.
|
175210
|
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...
|
175255
|
|
175200
|
Do I feel good about any of that? Not really. But I seem to find myself asking over and over again, why should I care? That's something that's never happened before. But I'd be lying if I didn't say I kind of liked it.
|
175232
|
The most beautiful possible thing is to deprive all places of their meanings.
|
175252
|
Elvis awoke in a cold, dank sweat, hungover from bourbon and bad dreams.
|
175176
|
Scavenge at that address only if you feel possessed of great courage, a profound faith in resurrection or reincarnation, or an impatient desire for a premature date with certain death.
|
175153
|
“Me try anything,” he says, then laughs a little. “You’re fucked.”
|
1751107
|
Hurried, hassling suit in front of me is being awful to the barista. So she refuses to serve him, turning away.
|
175199
|
He remembered waking up on those lazy summer days hearing the sad song of mourning doves.
|
17511311
|
It’s been a series of bad clams
|
175184
|
Our ink was disappearing. All of it.
|
175165
|
There is an empty space,
between every note in rock 'n' roll,
where they have buried John Bonham,
|
175143
|
Still no rain. Eight months, says Hollister. More like nine, says James Earl. We stand in Hollister’s high meadow, what’s left of it.
|
17511712
|
love weaves a perforated web
between the spikes
of longing
|
175195
|
Uzma accepts my invitation for dinner.
|
1751107
|
Look at her. She doesn't want to be here. The kiss and “wouldn't miss it for the world” was as empty as her crossed arms, crossed legs, and jittery foot were loaded. She attacked the foam of her latte with a tiny red straw. I wanted to scream. Complain about the…
|
175155
|
. . . did you notice yesterday afternoon how for an entire quarter hour five o’clock itself looked for a few minutes as if it would never arrive?
|
175187
|
the steady, persistent work of beauty
|
175121
|
My music teacher, Luigi Biagi, told me that he was done with me. He said it was time I moved on to more specialized teachers. Since my passion was composing and arranging, he recommended Al Fine.
|
1750119
|
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.
|
1750146
|
Marge didn't eat lamb or pork.
|
175000
|
Her mouth was sour; her forehead was still damp with perspiration. She leaned against the bathroom wall and noted her complexion had gone pale. She wanted to slide down the wall and rest until she felt steadier, but…
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