1646 7 5
|
...the daffodils will fling/
their yellow petals, taunting winter
|
1646 2 1
|
My buddy had been in the computer business, a systems analyst. Surely there would be some mention of him online. But there was nothing. Nothing, that is, until I saw the obituary.
|
1646 7 7
|
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.
|
1645 1 1
|
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
|
1645 0 0
|
“A shibboleth is a test—a way to separate da wheat from da chaff that's as old as the Bible, but as new as the latest trend in men's fashions,” Gus says.
|
1645 2 0
|
A shot in the dark and everything goes black. It's as if the story never happened.
|
1645 4 3
|
Atlanta, 1990The night we almost died,crushed at a one-hit wonder concert,comes back to mewhen the club announces it's closing.An ancient excelsior millturned industrial dance hall,I spent three years mapping every dark corner, finding secret places for sex and…
|
1645 9 9
|
She may never know and it sureis a small world. She may neverknow and they have a list. She maynever know, I'm very grateful.She may never know and I couldhave sworn we were getting along justfine. I refused to say goodbye. I am still wearing those…
|
1645 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
|
1645 11 6
|
The days cut off by damp chill with every thought a different variety of protection.
|
1645 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
|
1645 0 0
|
"Look at the grime on those curtains. Not fit for an Emperor. Pull them down. Put up fresh new ones. Not a spot."
"Oh! Look at this throne. All uneven legs. The gems are not shining. The gold looks dull. Fix it, fix it, fix it!"
|
1645 2 2
|
|
1645 0 0
|
You’re never really asleep. I am never awake. But as the darkness fades, I read. Your body tells my story.
|
1645 18 8
|
The cloudless sky/
amplifies the incompletion,/
clarifies the imperfections/
of the night’s normalcy-
|
1644 6 3
|
"Eye contact is essential as it shows confidence. I walk with purpose and hope that my skirt isn’t too short. "
|
1644 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
|
1644 0 0
|
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
|
1644 4 1
|
A heart which is alive despite everything in the world that wants to deaden it.
|
1644 5 5
|
This story is falling head-first into a mud-puddle.
|
1644 0 0
|
Tadd Dameron once described himself as “the most misplaced musician in the business,” and one needn’t call the missing persons bureau to determine that he may have been right.
|
1644 23 11
|
Every Monday you brought your Sunday finest to the bus stop...
|
1644 14 9
|
the wind mistook your arms for wings
|
1644 2 1
|
The story itself is not much longer than a snippet. What is a snippet anyway?
|
1644 4 1
|
threads of Cocoa Krispies
|
1644 1 0
|
Floating along the ebbs of the ocean,toward the horizon, where time has no say,an end that will never be reached.
|
1644 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…
|
1644 10 7
|
For you have waited. And waited and waited. And soon your slice of bread will be ready.
|
1643 17 8
|
When I was young and self-born in religion my aunts, uninterested in being washed in the Blood of Christ, called me Preacher Boy. I didn't pay them any attention. It was fine by me, I said, if they wanted to sit around and paint their toenails . . .
|
1643 9 6
|
It hangs unspoken in the sadness he pushes through his harmonica, while his hands work the old, beat-up guitar that tries to be a Gibson for his fingertips.
|