1592 4 3
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The print is not ideal, it's true.
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159287
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graves left or graves lost, into silence death sinks:/it's leaving the living that leaves us such pain.
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159221
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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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159222
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Why yes I began writing this, my bildungsroman, Who is Mitsy Jackson, in spring, 1974 or thereabouts, and thank you so much for asking.
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159286
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Mrs. L. was sitting on a love seat in her nightgown. She was sitting in a man’s lap....
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159201
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As the four flew beside each other, they shared their stories and got to know one another. Soon they learned from the voice what was happening.
|
159271
|
Emma Louise is walking over a concrete bridge when she spies, out of the corner of her eye, a man fishing, waist deep, in the river tumbling below. She is thinking that the water must be very cold on this autumn day, when she sees an extraordinary thing.
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15921011
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She left knives and hot pots with handles akimbo. Like a guardian angel, he turned them in. Like an ungrateful Eve, she turned them back out.
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159274
|
The Judge waited for the perfect wave.
|
1592149
|
the wind mistook your arms for wings
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159284
|
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
|
159294
|
William Shakespeare (a surname that meant "wanker" back in the day, by the way)
|
159254
|
But I don't see the cabinets, or know how to put the 4 chapters he's talking about today into the drawers that are invisible, floating, above his bed he's been in for a year, me sitting next to him, becoming a spinster.
|
159140
|
She wakes up sad. She can't shit. She spreads out the foil. no creases. folds it in half. She puts the stuff in the crease. holds a lighter under it. A zippo. then smokes it. Well smokes the smoke. It's like kissing god or the…
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159112
|
[SOME PEOPLE ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS.]
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159143
|
It is within my nature, and many others I know, to cling to what’s consistent and certain: the battles fought in the war for survival and the organic camaraderie borne in the trenches. Sometimes the quest and the people we commiserate with along the way
|
159121
|
The next week, she sends a small white box in the mail / with tissue paper, a ceramic mold the color of bleached bone—
|
159163
|
someone left graffiti on the billboard
over: "God's a hard
act to follow"; the one that made the news
|
159111
|
Each step you take on the pitchEach mile driven downEach closed exit of highway Blocked avenues of importanceBoarded up HammeredNailed shutPeople and places and things You can't get to anymoreThe knife and the needle The black and the…
|
159174
|
Once again there's too much to handle and
no space to process
|
159164
|
Everybody needs a flaw or two. It builds character.
|
159100
|
I struck up a conversation with the cricket. We talked about Super Nintendo and cookies and we fell asleep on the boulder. The next morning, I woke up and offered the cricket a donut. He enjoyed the donut thoroughly...
|
159121
|
Now you are a raving bare-forked fool madman with nothing.
|
1591106
|
Eight days before her 50th birthday they were married in their soft new pajamas, holding hands on his bed in the hospital. The pastor and witnesses wore protective hospital gowns and gloves; the patient was in isolation once again. A special dispensation from the head…
|
159141
|
We cannot love the past...
|
159140
|
A short triangular plastic shovels into the/White plastic container filled with topaz crystal-like/Salt granulars. Scratchy sandy sounds echo.
|
159133
|
The questions we ask ourselves define who we are as a culture. “What is the meaning of life?” “Is there a God?” “Does anybody really know what time it is?” “Where the hell did I put my car keys?” To see what…
|
159022
|
Mo Dean woke up sober.
And tired.
Tired of life, of soiled pants, rash, vomit, and whiskey sweat. Tired of holes in his pockets and blisters on his feet, of hanging signs asking for dimes and getting only pennies. And most of all, tired of the police.
|
159010
|
When Mt. St. Helens erupted, I knew that was the end of Bigfoot.
|
159000
|
I catch a glimpse of myself in the small mirror on the adjacent wall and find myself becoming shy at my own reflection, which is ludicrous in theory, shying away from oneself, but as I lock onto the few freckles I have spread neatly on both cheeks...
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