1648 2 2
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" I have no idea what's goin on out here, and I'm gonna find out one way or another."
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164894
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164820
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The sighs of the nearby shore came to me through an open window.Wave after gentle wave caressed her broad, sand crusted skin. Mesmerized, I lay still.The in out sound of breathing now filled the room.Your warmth enveloping me like the satin…
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164898
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On my twenty-second birthday, in the spring of 1979, I had a crawfish boil, my first. Ninety pounds of red mudbugs on a picnic table spread with newspaper, my birthday cake sitting at the end of the table like an afterthought.I hadn't…
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164854
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The coin, so little, the watch chain, the youth, the fading softening speech, each hand and finger, the panic modeled on your own eyes, the ashtray, certain stumps along the way, the long distance, the odd feather, the jazz rope gone,…
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164800
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Even if you're doing it together, there's no unity when everyone's dancing to their own tune.
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1648157
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Mark Reep is a faded Polaroid oracle taped to the only unbroken window of an abandoned house in Ithaca NY.
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164855
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Cockroaches in bed was the last straw. Alicia was sure she’d swallowed one in the middle of the night . . .
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164822
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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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164886
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If I seemed disappointed after our conversation,
then, for the record, that was never the case.
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164733
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From this distance, he reminded me of a sleazy pink flamingo, waiting for feeding time at the zoo to deepen the timbre of his feathers and hint at the promise of a narcotic aviation before his commune of hens.
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164752
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I walk through nameless
streets, narrow and winding,
past shops selling scarves,
spices, skins.
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164700
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"Nothingness had had enough. Nothingness had become militant. It had bought a camouflage jacket. It grew an afro. It burned its bra. Nothingness was pissed, and it wanted its stuff back."
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1647106
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164730
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Theresa Esposito woke to the smell of pignoli cookies baking. The sweet scent made her stomach rumble. She was ten-years-old today. And she felt ten. Her hair, her ears, her eyes, her toes — everything felt ten.
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1647158
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She is too stylish to be crazy, is what the migrant probably thinks. And he's right.
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164786
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The drop is like a hangman's drop, an executioner's, but farther and longer, perhaps three or four seconds.
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1647127
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164750
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She said “I have to go”, he answered with his eyes “Don't” and they stepped closer to each other in the kitchen, a step on the tiled floor, the remnants of their tea cold on the counter top.
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1647118
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I can’t decide whether I want to be buried or cremated when I die.
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164664
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My mother moved her things out of my parents’ bedroom into the attic guest room. When I asked where guests would sleep, my father said, “Matthew, don’t be an asshole.”
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164632
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"Why, before the summer has passed
You won’t remember her name. . ."
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164621
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Forgetting her inhibitions, she dove for him.
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1646106
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There were only six passengers aboard the small ferry...
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164645
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Art books, paintings, antique chairs, marble tables, full length gold gilded mirrors, oriental rugs, tapestries, a Louis XVI painted French armoire, a wrought iron Deco coffee table, flat ware, silver flasks, mantel lamps, iron gates, a silk settee, theat
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164621
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In the graph of life or death, two axes will inevitably meet. Will it be as jarring as two sharp and well-hewn axes colliding?
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164677
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It’s so uncomfortable being an Angel in a sack
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164610
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164677
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You think I don't know, that's your whole stupid problem. You don't believe in anyone. You must enjoy living in a dark lonely universe. I don't know if you know or not about the lights that live in your own head, but I believe …
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1646116
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