1791 7 1
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I’m in high leather boots; I’m talking many dead cows here and I respect that
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1791 8 5
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Twice burned, it buries its graves.
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1790 0 0
|
...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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1790 2 0
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There's this sepia-toned photograph, which my mother gave me, of my brother and me when we were still both youngsters. In the picture my brother's dressed in a skimpy checked suit whose sleeves were already too short for him — on its way to becoming my
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1790 9 8
|
I think I remember now why people write poetry.
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1790 12 10
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Lucy looked up, smiled and said mine had a head that looked like a mushroom. I suppose she was right. We were sitting on the floor drawing naked bodies for our anatomy lesson and teasing each other about our lack of drawing talent. We were new friends, having met when…
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1790 7 4
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1790 7 2
|
The guy stretches out his arm as he rounds up the herd of ducks that only want to bob. He pulls down his sleeve over a heart tattoo, faded from being seen so many times. It’s a skinny sort of heart tattoo, an askew heart from where I stand, an arrow fro
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1790 10 7
|
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…
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1790 6 4
|
It was a lover’s dark. They had been talking for hours when daylight lost interest and had gone elsewhere for sport.
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1789 16 9
|
If love could only by heat be bound
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1789 3 2
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They could have heard a pin drop in the car for the rest of the ride to her house, where she looked at him one last time and found nothing admirable, nothing memorable about him.
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1789 8 9
|
Throw them up there but try to make it look tidy. Try to become a little bit paranoid, just enough that you slightly overestimate how much they think of you at all.
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1789 13 12
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1789 8 0
|
The serious writer looks back on a long and distinguished career as an herbologist.
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1788 20 11
|
The box thuds at your feet: mug, plant, wedding photo, the 25-year pen.
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1788 0 0
|
Not long ago, Owen the Second showed her a skull. He kept it in a brown cardboard box in the top of the closet. "My first wife," he said, and sneered, his lip bunching up around a scar just under his nose.
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1788 0 0
|
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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1788 0 0
|
"Then why? Why?" she choked. "Why are you so... so mean to me?"
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1788 3 1
|
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1788 5 2
|
Elvis awoke in a cold, dank sweat, hungover from bourbon and bad dreams.
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1788 1 0
|
You're stupid drunk. And not feeling so good. You know you should stop doing this. But what else is there to do, especially since your brother went in? And now Roberto's gone to pick up his lady and left you alone, empty. Couldn't even drive you home. You don't…
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1788 5 3
|
"...you are a freak of nature..."
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1787 16 8
|
Their specialty is the roasted Australian hare, long ears intact, arranged on a bed of sassafras.
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1787 3 3
|
Everyone was shocked when they heard Tinkerbelle was six days gone and had got so heavy she couldn't fly. Who could have done it, everyone asked, but Tinkerbelle wasn't telling. So no one knew. That isn't true. I knew, and in this Declaration I swear I will tell…
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1787 10 3
|
Kitchen.
sandwich.
wife.
daughter.
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1787 13 9
|
Writing as a form of imaginative hatred
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1787 4 3
|
"Hey, man. All we represent to them, man, is somebody who needs a haircut."
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1787 15 16
|
He didn't hide it. He told her he was a mortician when he called. He had responded to her ad in the Lonely Hearts section of the newspaper.
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1787 2 0
|
As it turns out, hypertravel is surprisingly slimming.
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