1744 4 2
|
when down the street/ a female cat/ yowls with the force/ of a red light blazing/ in an alley.
|
174485
|
On the river he rows a dory. It is filling with water. There is a rectangular hole in the bottom.
|
174410
|
Shh!
What?
The downstairs neighbors. They’re at it again.
What?
It’s the weekend? They’re both home?
Oh.
Remember?
I think so. Sort of.
Shh!
What’s that grunting?
He must be doing the heavy lifting.
Sounds like he’s hurt
|
174410
|
I’m lying on the floor curled up in the foetal position and about six people are stamping on me. [...] It’s really confusing down here, what with all the kicking.
|
174422
|
“You own your own burial plot, but you don't own your home,” he'd said, and I couldn't help but agree.
|
174421
|
Bake sweet rolls and make love to your new wife, fall asleep for three years and grow a beard.
|
174496
|
He brought me kisses from New York.
|
17441711
|
Pholcidae...Daddy Long-Legs
|
174421
|
She pictured the President leaving the hospital a few days later, hobbling on a cane. Jackie beside him, Caroline and John-John dashing from a waiting limousine. He couldn’t die. She’d looked into his eyes. John F. Kennedy spoke to her.
|
174344
|
Moore doubted, perhaps, that readers could sympathize with a man who had killed someone for a cause or a girlfriend who forgave him. Perhaps she felt that maiming is (not) worse than murder. Perhaps she decided that the story should be about that.
|
17431211
|
and watch the bird play and squirrel play/
and the twitching of cottontail noses
|
17434128
|
She pulled into the doorway. Uncertain where to spend the night. Certain there'd once been a place with food. Here. This place. She remembered. Curtains. Small tables. Coffee cups thick-handled and sturdy. Crockery.
Some words came back.
|
174398
|
“It’s lost. Lost and gone. Forever. My love for you. I’m sorry.”
|
1743121
|
. . . hot sand and quiet ocean only.
|
174310
|
“Now I see clearly my whole life is pointed in one direction — there never has been any choice for me (Travis Bickle, "Taxi Driver").
|
174322
|
He was just walking along, making sure that no white, Hispanic, Native American or Asian people were doing anything illegal when he noticed the young black man walking down the street.
He hadn't meant to.
|
174321
|
he took me hostage as I came out the door.
Nelson took me hostage and we went back to his parents' house. They were gone crappie fishing so I had to spend the whole weekend alone with him. I didn't have anything lined up for Saturday night, so it wasn'
|
174372
|
She had liked her new husband's sternness, and the way he ran his hands over her body, noticed every inch of it, made her feel not invisible.He traveled during the week, wore cufflinks, worked out in hotel gyms. On the weekends, they redecorated her house and tried to…
|
174310
|
But that night we were happy, looking all around at the bright lights of the several cities that we could see.
|
17431911
|
Today the isobars are far apart.
|
174263
|
The camera moves slowly around the interior of a building inhabited by books.
|
174231
|
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…
|
174211
|
Once upon a time in the days of old
There lived a poor tailor who- I am told-
Did brag that his daughter
Spun straw into gold!
|
1742156
|
Now his daughter was an American citizen and Max wanted only the chance to board the SS Maua and disembark in New York.
|
174244
|
I call him a Staffordshire terrier. You call him a pit bull. Some people say he's lovable. Other people say he'll bite your face off without thinking too hard.
|
174285
|
“Hey, Buddy,” he says finally, “you were supposed to make a right back there”, and I can see his eyes flash as he reads my ID card on the dash...
|
174243
|
Don't throw earth on bones.
|
1742134
|
her skin the color of honey sugary sweet eyes like long-forgotten pathways to a place I can only just recall her hair in twists and her hands touching it fondling it tucking it back behind her ears as she rubs her legs against each other crosses them at…
|
174262
|
Her fingers scampered over the table, practicing the deft stitching of the basilar artery.
|
174211
|
My sister, Bonnie, is busy with the dishes as I enter the kitchen; I toss the mail I was sorting through onto the table and look around for Sophie, my four-year-old daughter. "Bonnie, isn't she ready…
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