1671 2 1
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Once a month I fuck the boss. It’s not part of my job description. We have a meeting in her office, after thirty minutes she opens the door to what appears to be a storeroom but is actually a well-appointed fuck chamber ...
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1671109
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Growing up in Mississippi meant growing up in a “dry” State which it was until 1966. Dry State meant selling alcoholic beverages, except for beer, is illegal. Period. By period I mean there was no distinction between selling whiskey and stuff to adults and…
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167152
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i built a house in the trees
before i lived in the sky
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167184
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I had to kill someone today. Do not be alarmed, she was only real to me.
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1671116
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She stood with her sisters, pretty maids in a row, felt cold despite the scorching spring sun. Heard what the man said but didn’t register; words from the Lord flew around her like the flighty trill of the robins up above. The birds made more sense.
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16711310
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1671129
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167065
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You load the pipe and suck in the fireworks. Whistling missiles, slithering sparks, shivering teases, dripping embers. You fall asleep with flashing neon outside and the Fourth of July in your veins. When you wake up, your room is the saddest place o
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167031
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Writer Marion Winik has ridiculously bad taste in men. She's an intelligent woman and a terrific writer, a good mom with a good heart, and ALL of her romantic relationships are train wrecks.Winik recounts her quest for love at age 50 in her new book, “Highs In The Low…
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16701312
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// opening act: van featuring balloon featuring drugs
// headliner: lubv ya babe
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167096
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Hey, how are you? she squeaked.
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16701815
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She grinned when he steadied himself against the sofa. “Boy, I know you.”
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167000
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I didn't care for parties when Jackie was alive and I donot like them now. Deborah, our daughter,…
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167022
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contact.
intimacy.
human
fucking
connection.
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16701313
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Let's walk through this park. We can talk until dark. You have the look of a wolf. I'm not stupid, Jack. I'm a lamb, you'll see, once you get to know me. That tat is fierce and your leathers tight black. My ink is old and black suits me, I'm told. …
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167030
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The others fell silent and cast glances back and forth to each other.
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1670106
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strobe lights wash me up and down
and here is the hottest mad dancer of
the early morning black and loaded
rushed into a freeze frame
...Also link to the song "Nope"
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167021
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Back in the sixties, I chanced upon a list of books. That’s right. Sifting a black garbage bin, I found the long lost canon. Seizing the moment, I snatched the list, and cradled it in my palms. I felt proud and patriotic for saving such a noble list f
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167011
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By: Roz Warren (and Janet Golden)I'm a humor writer. My work appears in publications from The Funny Times to The New York Times. Janet is a history professor whose writing was confined to academic journals and the occasional op-ed. Driving back from the Jersey shore one…
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1670166
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Warning: contains sexually suggestive comments.
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1670158
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Your girlfriend with the Dresden blue eyes with the sleek belly & gorgeous scars from ripping off Avenue A dealers has you on a leash of short-term amnesia. You can't recall the last time you got off from being trigger-happy inside her & you formed a…
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167065
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This is the world of an urgent art,
the room silent, except for the constant
sound of the camera.
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167010
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"Well if we break for lunch at the same time wanna sit with me? I got fruit roll-ups I'll share."
Cory looked up at the boy, removing her hand from the water only to brush a lock of dark hair from her eyes. He was still smirking, jaw crunching, saliva
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167042
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“I wrote a story about you today.”
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1670134
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the urgent, naked glow of opportunity
or
the dim fluorescent nuisance of an object out of reach
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166921
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Justin comes out of the bathroom, finally erect, his hands glistening with K-Y jelly as he chucks the girlie mag into a corner. “I'm ready.” Through the afternoon's soft-filtered light, Kelly watches him climb on top of her and thinks of…
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166953
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Sometime in the late 60s when I was thirteen I had this paper route for the San Mateo Times.
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166996
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The artist glides through an art supply store looking for a color within. She can feel the color, but she can't name it. She can almost see it, but it's not that kind of color. It's not like, say, blue or red, a primary color that animates flags or exotic ceremonies.…
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166910
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I’m not sure if it was the fishnet stockings. Or the pouty red lipstick. Or the tight black leather skirt. Or the mountainous breasts
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166920
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Though some days... I feel as though I'm nothing more than the ultimate hedged-bet should the offender be living out his last days on earth, holding my arm as we both feel our way through the long dark corridors of tragedy.
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