1285 3 4
|
They were just boys, the Nazis I mean, young in their twenties, not much older than my brother Cyril.
|
128532
|
The combined smells of ocean breeze, grilled cheese sandwiches, incense and sweat and burning herb that wafted over from Shakedown, along with windblown notes from tinny car speakers all rolled into a potent sensory cocktail he hadn’t tasted in far too l
|
128485
|
The women were increasing their writing in the restroom. I asked you later why women only talk on restroom walls, and you said, why do men only talk on restroom walls? I told you as much as I could remember of what had been written.
|
128400
|
It was like Azure was dictating the tempo of a song. Fluid in motion, and a story told.
|
128450
|
You are Day I am Night Let us Meet In the Afternoon And…
|
128400
|
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.
|
128420
|
Joe thought of Evelyn. Walt of Charley. Annabelle dreamt of Paolo in an autumn in Cordoba. Everyone who stayed at Mrs Jackanoe’s guest house in Room 17 and found the note also found some long forgotten feelings.
|
128444
|
I think of our first morning in front of the mirror and the hairbrush that we shared—the hairs in it brown from you, blonde from me. I miss this day and when I cannot sleep, I watch your window from my room until your light goes out. Sometimes, I can se
|
1284105
|
salmon sits gentler on my palate
|
128441
|
Byron's achievement, certainly quite remarkable, is to have raised the drunken monologue to a literary form.
Edmund Wilson
|
12841210
|
The kid with a testosterone chip
Instead of a brain
|
1284139
|
Dear Fictionaut Family,Some of you may recognize my name and remember reading my work, some of you may have joined more recently and be wondering what the hell I'm doing addressing you directly. I began writing on Fictionaut in 2010, during four years as I was fragmenting…
|
128452
|
They are really living (they)
say things they don't mean
. . .
Do not know what they say
Take the path without heart,
seeing the image
. . .
The moon rises above them
It does not move their blood
Nothing calls out to their blo
|
128422
|
“I’m pregnant,” he says...
|
128474
|
The Judge waited for the perfect wave.
|
128411
|
Colton nods, without words, understanding the significance of every word that the Old Man has uttered, knowing that in the end, given enough time, we all go down that lonely corner, to embrace the darkness, wishing to be cured of our sentiments.
|
12841817
|
They meant no harm when they flooded farms in its swirls and eddies
|
12841711
|
Each little token is the world/
as you knew it at each time and place
|
128433
|
In a dazzle of emerald softness, it flew out into the breeze wanting for the red apple in the tree just outside my window. The power had gone out, spare change to total meltdown, and the air inside was stifling, thick with mind-numbing languor and mosquitoes. So I…
|
128400
|
She didn’t think of herself as an undesirable, no, she didn’t, but did find herself cowering in face of the presumed judgment of those around her. They had more money, more clout, more everything.
|
128421
|
They could cram Rob inside the trunk and then drop him somewhere in the dingles.
|
128488
|
I could hide away in this tower
But I am Rapunzel
And I will let down my hair
|
128343
|
Last night, in a tavern called Wits End, we dropped quarters into a console, sized and shaped like an old TV.
|
128333
|
|
128377
|
To tell the truth, I can’t complain. Look, lots of people have it tough. I don’t have it tough...
|
128362
|
Your usage of the English language / is awkward and passé—
|
128300
|
His name is Rick Reynolds. His name is Steve Redford.
|
1283198
|
A proper study of human history should
lead the student to an inescapable desire
to commit suicide
|
128376
|
Anyone thinking they aren’t alone on life’s journey has their head up their ass.
|
1283149
|
I assemble myself daily//
from the ready-mades/
of a fast talking world,
|
