1580 0 0
|
Normally, Aidan looked like a guy. A highly feminine guy, but still a guy. He wore his hair in a buzz cut (a turn on of mine), wore tight clothes, worked out so he had a bit of muscle, but nothing over the top. And he was my guy.
|
158063
|
Let’s say you know so little about me. Like whose idea of a joke to name me Hideo for excellent male. Or why I hang out at triangle Park, ogling expatriates or crusty punks.
|
15801716
|
saw the world was a mess
I did nothing about it, poured myself some apple juice
|
158065
|
The boy was sure of something,She was just the one. The girl was sure of nothing, Her life had just begun. For him, he'd found his partner, There was never any doubt. For her, he was fine for now, But there was more to learn about. He thought it was a perfect…
|
158000
|
"One-upmanship" is a strategy for defeating an opponent somewhat unfairly without actually cheating.
|
158021
|
You were gone, long gone, and I could no longer smell your scent as I walked through the empty house. I couldn't bring myself to unpack the boxes, and they lurked like a forest of overgrown drab Legos.
|
158053
|
Twenty-two tornadoes tore through Toronto, spiraling steel and stone to the streets where she stood, texting her best friend.
|
158080
|
|
158093
|
“You have no idea what your lives will be like if you can get out of the ‘hood. You could be driving Volvos, eating Tuscan cuisine, getting MacArthur ‘genius’ grants!”
|
158010
|
Floating along the ebbs of the ocean,toward the horizon, where time has no say,an end that will never be reached.
|
1580128
|
|
15791914
|
Before she flushes the toilet the world is spinning.
|
15791911
|
Girl with glasses and
skinny fingers
playing with wires
|
157900
|
Everybody knew Billy Miller. He had messy hair and crooked teeth that he hid behind a thin-lipped smile. He and his friend Jimmy Rodgers, who everyone called Cock on account of his red hair that stuck up like a comb, were inseparable. They liked to ste
|
157943
|
I'd never seen a dead person before, let alone one that was living just
seconds earlier.
|
157900
|
When we talked about the lasagna, we were, I see now, talking about different things. I.e., I was talking about lasagna, and you were talking about almost everything but. You weren't talking about the dry, burnt noodles or…
|
157922
|
He does not read what he’s giving them permission to do to him, just signs the release.
|
1579106
|
Her smile dazzled me from across the room.
|
157911
|
Roanne hungered. Memory had ruled her forever. Shards really, edged like machetes: daddy, whose fingers had eyes in the dark. Momma, ensconced in the shadows. Inside the church, those pairs of short…
|
15792011
|
The nearsighted world/
puts on its lenses
|
15791510
|
when the mirror cracks
my eyes won't cry
it's a perfectly
respectable (romance)
between her and i
|
157900
|
Sir Reginald Lionel Windsworth described the match in Englishmen's Lahore Gazette as, "A plethora of mistakes and complete absence of human sense."
|
157983
|
"I would like my pictures to look as if a human being had passed between them, like a snail, leaving a trail of the human presence, memory trace of past events, as the snail leaves its slime." Francis bacon “Feminine …
|
157975
|
Beneath an opal moon, the open field and wilderness across it look immersed in varying shades of blue. A strong night howler blows across a little girl's face as she walks the field as if in a trance; her whole visage framed against the backdrop of this very act …
|
157971
|
My mother was Irish as Paddy's pig. So all her family. Lovely people they were. Also, seldom seen among the Folk; stone cold sober. My father's family; Bavarian German. Bavaria's the wrong side of the German tracks. Frankfort people laugh at Bavarians as people in…
|
157988
|
If I saw a little old man out there, a fellow with a hunched up back, I shouldn't be afraid.
|
157954
|
...listening to the ache of errs our mouths had become.
|
157965
|
I got on the Greyhound Bus at 11 a.m. and sat by myself staring out the window. I could see the reflection of my own dark beard in the window, a 27 year-old man with a huge poem bursting my heart, gasping to get out into the bright lit-up world out there,
|
157985
|
collars of obedience /
discarded in the pyre /
with draft cards and bras
|
157852
|
This is Peter’s office. The room is small, and the wood paneling is painted white. Light colors, Peter has been told, make a room appear larger.
|
