“He put his stuff down—sunglasses, lotion and so forth—and I noticed there’s a little notebook that he didn’t have before.‘What’s that?’” I asked, and he said ‘Nothing.’”

I have no confidence that you'll complete the task. Shit, you probably don't even understand it in the slightest.

I wake up on the edge of the mattress, teetering. The dog is looking at me funny.

Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?

I was shooting baskets in the driveway when the Mexican kid delivered the groceries. He drove in fast and loud . . .

The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine and it sits there and waits until I come home just like you.

She wields the blade.

beatings and tear gas

Say the world is a smudged charcoal drawing. Slit from its frame, smuggled out of the Vatican. Don't say it couldn't happen. Who would know.

Have you ever spent twilight in a old pasture?

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

Well, just put your hand on my knee, alone in my room, perv, unasked-and-unflirted for, go get a date, you coward, you limp-dicked male bitch . . .

"I'm in a wrestling movie!" you shouted.

The Mojave Desert remembers Ron Paul With tattered billboards Scraped and clawed by vehement dust

In order to be a catalyst for catharsis — which is just a fancy way of saying agent of change — you have to be willing to condition yourself into something partially inhuman. Only something on the very outskirts of humanity…