1636 7 4
|
The Judge waited for the perfect wave.
|
1636 23 11
|
Every Monday you brought your Sunday finest to the bus stop...
|
1636 7 3
|
Who ever saw an open upright pop bottle on the street?
|
1636 8 4
|
I remember having a beer once
And feeling like a minor god
And I know in some lie you told
Your life began making sense
And I also know that the mind likes logic
But the heart loves chaos
I just hope flies land on the butter of your soul
|
1636 3 3
|
A small bar of glycerin soap floated in the sink full of bloody water . . .
|
1636 0 0
|
The door shuts slowly to something that’s allegedly mine
and it sits there and waits until I come home
just like you.
|
1636 1 1
|
He had a handsome dial tone, we called him every name but his.
|
1636 6 4
|
We bobbed and weaved using our words like the sniffs of two unfamiliar dogs in a Wal-mart parking lot. Wary, but sensing we could be more than just polite neighbors, once we got past the normal darkness of strangers. There was no plot to our story yet, but we both seemed to…
|
1636 0 0
|
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…
|
1636 0 0
|
You’re never really asleep. I am never awake. But as the darkness fades, I read. Your body tells my story.
|
1636 9 8
|
|
1635 16 9
|
Have you ever spent twilight in a old pasture?
|
1635 4 1
|
A heart which is alive despite everything in the world that wants to deaden it.
|
1635 2 2
|
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 …
|
1635 12 10
|
My little friend is no bigger than a minute. An even five feet tall, if that.
|
1635 11 3
|
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…
|
1635 2 0
|
And now, the weather. The Cloud Wranglers have roped three solid clouds this morning, preventing the clouds from raining iron bars onto Human Brain Storage Center #17.
|
1635 11 5
|
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,…
|
1635 9 7
|
Out in the world again, pretending to belong.
|
1635 10 2
|
And I don't know how long it will be until she comes outside and figures it all out.
Figures me out.
|
1635 11 6
|
The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.
|
1635 3 2
|
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.
|
1634 2 1
|
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
|
1634 2 0
|
A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.
|
1634 7 6
|
"I'm in a wrestling movie!" you shouted.
|
1634 5 5
|
This story is falling head-first into a mud-puddle.
|
1634 9 2
|
Dear Sir/ Madam I wish to apply for the position you advertised in the Daily Sun. Although my expertise is in self-obliteration and self-worth (or lack of), and my work mainly in disappointment, I do have much experience in failure, which this letter will…
|
1634 2 1
|
The story itself is not much longer than a snippet. What is a snippet anyway?
|
1634 0 0
|
Still as the knife on the counter there still. Like mothballs in a chest. One with clear bags and newspaper clippings and your scarf inside it. The baby girl could put a mothball in her mouth and suck it like a penny. The way too close to a light bulb bur
|
1633 2 2
|
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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