1775 8 7
|
He died in the ditch he dug.
|
177531
|
Let us be stranded in the Andes and have to eat human flesh or at least toothpaste to survive! Let there be an earthquake! Let there be a flood! Let there be a tornado, a new ice age, an invasion from Mars. Only: let me survive.
|
17751310
|
|
177544
|
“We don’t need to kiss.” I say coyly, morphing the angles of my body to look cute, irresistible. It would be easier if I’d brushed my hair. “Pretend I’m a prostitute.” I instruct, ”They don’t kiss their clients.” It’s a reference I’ve made before, but not
|
177474
|
I wonder how many crumbs
he can drop to make a cookie,
whole, so I can relax a little
and throw out the self help books
about how I'm not right in
the motherfucking head,
|
177498
|
When the sun was above the treeline, and the hunter returned to the cabin, they were ready for him.
|
17741312
|
Grey would rather be in the trees or down by the river. When a wind comes up, he grabs the wooly blanket from the hook in the barn and calls Phoebe. They stretch the blanket out between them and sail into the grassy meadow that slopes down the hill from t
|
1774138
|
the / future is now incomplete
|
1774115
|
An anorexic middle-aged woman walked up and watched me..
|
177445
|
. . . it's all we ever want -- the holding.
|
177400
|
A brief novel excerpt featuring two characters breaking out in song, with lines like 'Arabian knights dance sheikh to sheikh.'
|
177486
|
|
177441
|
"What does it say about our political process when I could pick students at random out of any of my classes who would do better than the actual candidates. That scares me. What’s happening to people? How did we get here?”
|
177411
|
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…
|
1774138
|
All the years since, until this morning, I'd thought the actor was James Gregory.
|
177452
|
Maintaining a healthy love life requires effort and professional advice, and Your Love Life columnist would be happy to assist you.
|
177499
|
Some life in Rosco's walls. He listened with his dead wife Sonya's stethoscope: rustles and scratching, a collective heartbeat.“Vermin”, said Vlad, Rosco's neighbor. “Will take over if no kill.” He smiled with one tooth, urped some vodka. “I…
|
177431
|
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...
|
177411
|
Noah's diagnosis takes several years. A doctor from North Carolina reading his case dubs the condition Bootlegger’s Syndrome.
|
177376
|
Brody was standing against the wall with one hand in his hip pocket, as if he was holding a gun. The motel was set in the undergrowth of several weedy small towns, but a flashing neon sign made it impossible to miss from the road. We used it as a safe hou
|
177300
|
I didn't care for parties when Jackie was alive and I donot like them now. Deborah, our daughter,…
|
177352
|
All is Ready I have bathed in patchouli oil and my hair gleams, lustrous with brushing. I am wearing my gold ankle bracelets with the ruby charms that my love gave me when we had been married one year. My robe is fuschia silk and under it I wear…
|
177386
|
...this dim and empty room, and behind a wall of glass a flag materialized, backlit and fluttering, and I am not saying what country's flag it was, just that it was a flag, that awesome symbol of the nation state and fervid jingoism...
|
177396
|
Be not a Hercules furens abroad, and a Poltroon within thyself
|
17731614
|
One day we turn a corner, and two fat little doggies spot us and come running up. Oh, they are so glad to see us!
|
177343
|
"this is the year I'm going to plant a yucca tree in the garden."
|
177343
|
I fear osiris with his feather rising to meet the raven in mid-air they will turn to look at me decide if I go through the door of no return into fierce landscape on my knees I will crumple into the foetal…
|
1773149
|
Shred the roses he posted, fling the petals like slideshows of storms.
|
177300
|
Ann had the vague idea that they would get it all worked out, and somehow, by tonight, she’d be in Robert’s arms again, and he’d be the old Robert, the man she’d known 15 years ago. She had no way of knowing, of course, that a Robert was going to
|
177300
|
It was where the “Suits” worked. I didn’t want to go there, I didn’t want to be there, but in those days one did what one was supposed to do.
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