1646 18 9
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164642
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It's 6:45 a.m. A gritty, mundane sort of magic pervades the air at "Valentine’s" in the Hamilton Hotel.
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164676
|
"I'm in a wrestling movie!" you shouted.
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164620
|
The rocket shone in the distance. Cape Canaveral had never looked so pretty.
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164653
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“There’s no real freedom in this world. But a car and the open road is close enough for government work.”
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164611
|
Later, your father stared, confused, at the empty spot where the wall paint layers ended in the shape of the old machines. He stopped coming in.
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164699
|
not every punishment proceeds / without a hitch
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1646108
|
The best thing about being a cowboy is the cows.
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1646113
|
As a young baby, perhaps a year old, I have a memory of sitting on myfathers lap, in front of a coal stove to keep us warm, while my mothercooked soft boiled eggs for him every morning. He would break offa piece of his toast, dip it in the egg, and feed it to…
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164675
|
...the daffodils will fling/
their yellow petals, taunting winter
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164621
|
The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul
With tattered billboards
Scraped and clawed by vehement dust
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164611
|
He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.
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164698
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164655
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there should be a word for it.
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164674
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We are all in big trouble. Here's some fiction to let your soul experience the beast.
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164632
|
Hope was beauty before I even knew what beauty was with her golden pigtails, brilliant blue eyes and an infectious smile — even after Jamie Delano flung his Frisbee, knocking out Hope’s two front teeth.
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164600
|
My gaze could have gutted any man. Any man, but John Marcy. History would write that John Marcy was a traitor to his country. Public enemy number one in the state of New York. When that probably couldn’t be farther from the truth.
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164677
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I spent most of those days in my car. Stashed in the trunk was a cache of precious stones, neatly sorted and separated, bound in smooth black velvet inside a smooth black briefcase.
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164591
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Naked, we stood in my shower. When she kicked my tool, I noticed she had a toe ring.
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164511
|
This new kid on the block, named Miller, showed up out of the blue one day, while we were throwing rocks and boulders down on this flimsy gray sheet of construction plywood that was covering an open trench in front of a new house on our block. One of the
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164565
|
This writers' conference (sponsored by VQR, which had run its banner ad atop the Fictionaut home page in the summer of 2014, which begins to explain both my attendance and this essay) revealed itself as an apt subject . . .
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164522
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Light “I can escape the feeling of complicity in it only by speaking out.” The professor arrives on time, sockless. The former a sign of his polite upbringing. The latter, his lack of pretense and high …
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164573
|
Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
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1645115
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I didn't believe in hiding secrets or broken arrows. So I told my new girlfriend, who in earnest, tried shedding pounds like ugly memories, who glued herself to my shag carpet, watching exerise videos--that I didn't sleep alone. I tried to be as sensitive as possible,…
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164597
|
Out in the world again, pretending to belong.
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164500
|
You’re never really asleep. I am never awake. But as the darkness fades, I read. Your body tells my story.
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164585
|
collars of obedience /
discarded in the pyre /
with draft cards and bras
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164422
|
There she is. A paper doll of me. The dress, the lilt, the self-hatred. The crowd thins and swells in want of a scene. Conversations begin, pretend, then halt. My gin and tonic sweats into my hand and I lick at the…
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164476
|
—indistinct and foggy, my eyes lost at sea,
confined to a horizon not close to land.
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164421
|
Thirty years later – and all the years in between – Alan Walton would remember how insidious it was, the anger that started that night with Quinton Harris, fifteen years old and the undisputed leader of the troop, and spread like a virus to the other boys
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