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We were a perfect match of broken pieces of flesh and cobalt. We moved in waves of couch plastic crinkling and clicking.
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149131
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Your favorite nickname
existed only in the bright red
cherry smoldering
at the end of your smoke.
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149022
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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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149076
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I read it all wrong. In writing her novel, I thought Marilynne Robinson was writing about twins — writing, in some way, about me. Instead, these characters, Lucille and Ruthie, were standard sisters, one older than the other. In fact, Robinson explains th
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149042
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149052
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Do you remember who I am yet?
I remember the first time you made love to me. It appears I was one of the lucky ones … it wasn’t in a car, it wasn’t in your Dad’s boat, underwater, or any other weird place you've written about. It was actual
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149063
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someone left graffiti on the billboard
over: "God's a hard
act to follow"; the one that made the news
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1490148
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149010
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If you work with the public, you're stressed. Unreasonable customers. Demanding bosses. Reduced staffing. I love my job, but the workload is tough and getting tougher. What can we do to keep our spirits up?Play Customer Appreciation! It's simple. Assign a point value…
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149098
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Everybody called her The Crier because from time to time we would hear her crying.
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1490107
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We are young
That’s all we’ve got
We take drugs
We smoke pot
You got mugged
And I got shot
We are young
That’s all we’ve got
I want you to love me like it’s midnight
Midnight, midnight
Yeah, your mama wants you home
But she knows
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149064
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I pull into the parking lot and see a group of roosters squawking and trying to overturn an ‘87 Pontiac Bonneville that's caught fire. They're pouring whiskey down their throats. They're weeping over a bag of economy sized frozen breast fillets.
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149043
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A story about convincing people to do things they don't want to do, written entirely in dialogue; originally published by CHEAP POP.
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149053
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This is my secret source of income, you see....
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149034
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What I Love About HistoryMy roommate, Cara, wears all black, which she thinks scares me. I've never bothered to tell her I wore all black for two years, eighth and ninth grade, and I'm just over it, not that I think she's lame or passé, but there's nothing remotely…
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14901614
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“Easter’s coming,” my wife says. “Should I dress as a bunny or a chicken?” she asks. She means for the costume party.
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149031
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“Let me in,” I begged.
“No. Get back stinky feet.”
“I washed them.”
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148920
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A university student who triggers a flash mob in the heart of Silicon Valley to prove her hacking creds finds herself in deep trouble when the colorful members of Anonymous Hackers prove their hacking creds to her.
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148998
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She wonders if he will do the dishes. He said that he would, but that doesn’t mean anything. He said he would do them last week, said he would save money, said he would come home last night. He didn’t do any of those things, either.
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148981
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The dowdy woman in fart nailed the vim.
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148977
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Content may contain ordinary, everyday, and all around average happenings.
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148933
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Things looked way too normal to be normal. The cold, gliding black eyed swans never once straying far from each other's wake, the cute blue jeaned lovers everyone secretly watched carefully picking their trickling way over small odd rocks and…
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148900
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The day I met Griffin Burns was the worst day of my adult life. However, it wasn't a series of unfortunate events, one mistake which followed an unlucky break which followed a bad situation; nothing …
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148986
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My wife tells me/your dog has vomited/
on the carpet AGAIN!
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1489108
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hookers are better educated these days
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1489117
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BECAUSE to fuck is an incidental REASON to be here
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148922
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Suppose Eve, strolling through the sunlit Garden, had not stumbled on that particular Tree at all, the wily serpent twined in its lower branches?
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148833
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Excelsior: A Poem in Nine Parts Preface: Musings on a Lighthouse by an Eastern Isle (Suggested by a painting by Mario Larrinaga) It is bright tonight; this plain, displaced from place In Time's broad flight, yields…
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148821
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I don't care much for Joking, which is not to say that I don't care at all for Joking, just that I don't care much. I would say, if I had to say, that I care for Joking about as much as I care for a cousin, not a close cousin, one I have a genuine frien
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1488102
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Saturday morning, and I’m pushing the old truck a little, chasing retreating bands of cloud shadows along a winding hilltop road.
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