1681 5 5
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Now as my fearful hand goes unwittingly up I search the faraway trees for the closest possible answer I know I don't know. The clever waiting beast is looking my way with an intelligent roving eye that says he likes to hit. It doesn't matter. You're worse…
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168110
|
Darrell and I pulled into my driveway after being out all night long. A slash of sunlight fell across the purple Mexican sage beside my front walk. Except for the birds in the trees, there seemed to be an odd serenity to the air — until I spotted one
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168141
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The little girl spooned strawberry yogurt into her mouth as a pleasant morning breeze swept across the balcony of the hotel. The girl lifted the cup and stuck her tongue inside to lick the yogurt off the edges. Across the small round table, the girl's mother sat…
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168194
|
Creep up behind me one day and prick my skin. I promise you won’t draw blood – for it is ink that will spurt from my veins.
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168154
|
Everyone hoped to be assigned somewhere they could just drop in on their way home for Memorial Day weekend. Someone said, Blake, you’re single. You hate your family, don’t you?
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168192
|
She liked talking to him, even now, when they’d spent three years talking. She thought about other conversations with other men at other bars, some of the bars on the water and some of them tucked behind shopping centers or off of different h
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1681219
|
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168110
|
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.
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168163
|
It started like this: just him saying, "Nice to meet you, Marie," and me, while I just said his own name back to him, at the same time thinking, "I want you to take me to a hotel room someday, Frederick. I think I’ll like the way you’d make me feel...
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16812012
|
Our ironies don’t make us happy
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168044
|
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.
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168022
|
The fucking black dress; the fucking black dress that obfuscates whether or not you're pretty in the face, that obfuscates the sound of your voice, that obfuscates the color of your hair, your eyez, your skin,
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168044
|
The figure eight will fall on its side. Become infinity.
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168010
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“Now I see clearly my whole life is pointed in one direction — there never has been any choice for me (Travis Bickle, "Taxi Driver").
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1680116
|
Even in the fading light, it looked big enough to disembowel a man.
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168000
|
If they don’t cover consequences in your gifted and talented program, you may care to research it.
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168092
|
Public Wi-Fi ”hotspots” allow men and women to ogle each other discreetly while pretending to write the Great American Novel.
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16801112
|
Tunnel hobos, all hootched up high, think a sign's all about super powers, mind reading, clairvoyance, dig?
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167963
|
There’s an unending parade of drifters, outlaws and crazies and I always have to watch my back, but, then again, that’s nothing new.
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16791612
|
A little poem about prison
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167900
|
Scott was sure his father was reassured by the sticky stains in his Penthouse; Dad found them when Scott was thirteen. Dad had just one issue of that venerable porno, which Scott defiled with his joy. It was not the Penthouse models…
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167965
|
LECTURES A Bra Burning When Freud painted “Envy,” the women collapsed, holding fans to their faces. Hot that year, they retired to the Tyrols. 50 Days of Palindromes Although Thiebaud painted cakes like women,…
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167910
|
What else, H, is there to say about heartbreak? What else could it be but our hands, cupped as if holding water against our chests, then broken into halves. Or the picture of this one, pretending to load a gun. Or this one, soaked in smoke—asking for
|
167998
|
It is true that the college dogs spread vermin, reeked and shat on the soccer field...
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167943
|
Don't throw earth on bones.
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1679138
|
|
167991
|
Literary agents, also editors,
But most assuredly not my creditors,
Someday they won’t mean jack to me—
The people who won’t get back to me.
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167964
|
I blame the fucking mosquito net.
|
16792112
|
It chases other newborns down and eats them.
|
167800
|
“Jesus Christ!” the man screams in pain, and a chorus of “Ewww” is heard from the girls' bench, where the severed body part has landed in a Yoplait strawberry yogurt.
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