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Warning: contains sexually suggestive comments.
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I had to kill someone today. Do not be alarmed, she was only real to me.
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Liszt, Piano Sonata in B minor. I don't like it but I can't stop listening. It doesn't fit my mood, or the high plains landscape, or the early evening, pink and blue, pastel colored sky.
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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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Mulberry Street was once filled with people. Just going about themselves; day to day, minding their business. To school, to work, to deliveries, or to personal priorities, it all came to halt. What Marissa saw was unlike anything she experienced in her li
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I can't find my way back to the library. I've heard of this happening, that if you leave even for just one day and for a very good reason, as good a reason as mine, you may not find your way back. Now why should this be so? I do not understand this library. It houses…
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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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Last night Ariana our second daughter, only 8,wanted to baptize you for your birthday. Her hair shimmered and the face of her joy reminded me of Two Oceans Plateauin the Beartooth Range in southern Montana.As she walked from the sink she carrieda large…
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The others fell silent and cast glances back and forth to each other.
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I arrived Sunday evening to a darkened house. Everything unplugged. Even the fuses from the breaker. Meticulous, this undoing. Silence has a sound. Cold has a voice, a pearly cigarette whisper. It says, “Metaphor?”
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He extended his bent arm to its full length with a crack, straightened his hunched body and tried, and failed, to close his lips over his frightening grimace. Stone lips are not pliable.
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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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Sometime in the late 60s when I was thirteen I had this paper route for the San Mateo Times.
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He had thought of the walk down to Mrs Greensmith’s shop when he and all the men beside him reckoned they’d “had it” that time when II SS Panzer-Division had fought like gods for Hill 212.
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I’ve done my part of the job in conservative clothing. Lonnie’s done her part looking like Dolly Parton.
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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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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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"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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“I wrote a story about you today.”
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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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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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// opening act: van featuring balloon featuring drugs
// headliner: lubv ya babe
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Often, meeting attractive people we pay very little emotion toward them ... Why? It's because we have no common (often the economic in its sense) project of living to bring us together ... When such project exist ... Then, well ... we find people sexy
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She grinned when he steadied himself against the sofa. “Boy, I know you.”
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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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i built a house in the trees
before i lived in the sky
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I ain’t your kissing cousin
That’s pretty plain to see
Baby, keep your pretty lips
Far away from me
I ain’t your kissing cousin
That’s pretty plain to see
You’re really very pretty
Come kiss me and we’ll see
We don’t live in a barnyard
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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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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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I used to see kids at the mall with those extendable "kid leashes". Like the ones made for chihuahuas. Like the ones made to squash a good story, you know...
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