His looks were polished like his shoes, his hair as black. No one would have guessed he made his living as a thief.

Takashi and Hideki stared at the pool of grey Mana. A scientist carefully contained some of the mist into a container.

Closed gate without fences

1. Weeds of the World (Unite!) We invade the invaders and they invade us, these little Blooming weeds. They raise five flowers and let them blow Into the winds like sheets of stars. All of us Steer by their turning tide. All of us will eventually …

I sat in the dark, mashing damp sand like clumps of brown sugar into my palm while the heavy Gulf air blew my hair into ropes. Sometimes I worried that I was unable to need people, but, as much as the thought upset me, I couldn't make myself truly want t

Her back turned, she wanders off searching for the way home wringing her hands, trying to think, but thoughts evade her.

unwrapping the gauze from her wrists....

Roy Carver owned a big tire retreading outfit over on the Mississippi.

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.

Byron's achievement, certainly quite remarkable, is to have raised the drunken monologue to a literary form. Edmund Wilson

Looming ahead was another polite suburban party at which, after a couple of pops, I'd say something that embarrasses my wife in front of her girlfriends. Or so she claims.

Things don't always go to plan. Gem knew what people would have said back then, of course. She wasn't stupid.

I dreamt once a child’s drawing of a house all scribbly black crayon swayback roof crooked chimney. God, do you remember how cold it was that night?

TV and power cord valorized in dust,/ wires and digital guts unimpaired, I’d guess . . .

It was my fault.