1636 5 3
|
Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.
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163622
|
...you should pick a VERY OLD millionaire. Very old, and NOT VERY WELL...
|
163600
|
I'm subconsciously a sucker for guys who are no good for my
self-esteem. Or waistline.
|
163642
|
Something was changing.
We could sense it in the circling air. A loss of stillness - and we'd been still for so long.
|
16361412
|
You call your wife. “Do you see what I see?” you ask.
|
163696
|
Everyone loves a story of love
unrequited.
But what about the stories
of the unrequited lovee?
|
163660
|
We may not be capable of even trying to appreciate the fact of mortality until we are somewhat older—let's say 18 years old. But, from the age of 18 until we die—and die we will; we know that—we have the opportunity to spend some time thinking abou
|
16361112
|
Regrets lined behind him like crossties on a railroad track.
|
163561
|
You look at people
and despise them all.
|
163533
|
|
163562
|
Eddie meets Sarah Packard, a “college girl” played by Piper Laurie. She walks with a limp, a fact Eddie doesn’t notice at first because she’s sitting down at a diner table in a bus station. She’s alcoholic and writes poetry.
|
163588
|
that doesn't need any words to arrive fully formed, or too many words to be believed in at all I should say, a little something we can simply send back and forth across your time and my space without having to talk at length about it, but being a …
|
163433
|
two roses her eyes
aqua-blue
no, blue-green
|
163466
|
some answers are enough to make you cry or laugh yourself to death
|
163474
|
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,
|
163400
|
Sora collapsed on the wall to Azure’s squeals. She felt her arm lifted up and placed around Azure’s shoulder.
|
163410
|
He first saw her stepping off a water taxi by the Long Docks in the rain at night, her right arm atrophied from some early childhood disease, dangling like an apology, her other holding a cigarette. Her wet black hair hung past her shoulders and her eyes
|
1634106
|
If you're a Boomer, your brain is teaming with decades-old Pop tunes that you just can't forget. The real reason you can never remember where you put your keys? Too many of your brain cells are clinging to every last lyric to “Fire and Rain,” “Free…
|
163483
|
the sound of ashes/ being poured in the kitchen
|
163498
|
When our kids were very young, my wife and I believed it was important to give our children traditions that they could grow up with. One such tradition that we shared each Thanksgiving was to walk down by the cliffs along the ocean. We'd all go, our kids…
|
163400
|
...the fatal bleeding-out of the love receptors. They call it “Juliet's Tears.”
|
163433
|
By February, I had decided,
That you'd tear out my throat every morning
if it meant your favorite song would play from my neck.
|
163475
|
He plucks the feathers and winds thread to simulate an insect’s torso.
|
1634124
|
Xanax, A hand gun, And the courage to pull the trigger
|
163451
|
Two summers later, the ritual began. Carol left her house at midnight, having served her husband and daughter a heavy dinner that left them caged in their sleep. She was like a thief working in reverse: she rose from bed with her husband’s first snore,
|
163420
|
In traffic I cry bloody murder, but my bloodlust subsides once I'm in Valhalla. Chip Whitehead wants to see me on the 22nd floor before I start my shift. Charlie and the other suits have been looking at me funny since I sent Chip a memo suggesting the recession…
|
1634106
|
The trees would answer with a creak and a crackle.
Fall was near, a rotten apple.
|
163465
|
Cézanne sags during a moment of paint. There is an umbrella in the room whose surface collects his thoughts. Outside, in the rain, the grass and garden smell strongly of spring. Fruit litters the table. Light through the window writhes in conversation with shape and…
|
163370
|
I heard this story from my grandmother who heard it from her grandmother who heard it from an uncle, who was a monkey.
|
1633126
|
"Every generation is a new generation, isn't it? What's so different about your generation?"
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