1578 3 2
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I could smell a bold combination of cheap perfume, stale smoke, and sex excreting from her weathered pores. The bus engine hummed as we climbed a winding road. She scratched her neck and tried to finger comb through her knotted hair. I caught a glimpse of
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157811
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I would open an eye, waiting for it to absorb the scant light in the room, and I would see her on the far edge of the bed, the topography of her hips now a battlement to keep me at bay.
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157843
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You think about the first time you saw an axe
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157800
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I'm a jogger of these parts, but I've yet to discover a dead body, or even dead body parts, or worse yet, discover that my parts will be discovered by some unfortunate jogger.
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15781110
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That won’t kill me, will it? I asked. Maybe, the doctor said.
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157850
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I made her a mix tape. It was revolutionary. Twenty-two songs she had to hear at least once in her life. I even drew some trippy drug-like designs on the label of the CD to make it seem more real. It was the ocean and the sun and every body of land balled up…
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157843
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Until the ivy hides me in
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157896
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I guess at the end you’re only
looking forward. Or upward actually,
since you can only lie there on your back
looking upward, straight ahead toward infinity,
your mouth in a grimace, with the ghostly
pink lips peeled back from the teeth.
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15781410
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A woman posted a story on Fictionaut about discovering that her husband was a werewolf.
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157800
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she thinks she looks good in her short red dress, black makeup around her eyes, last night's lipstick a slap of crimson on her cheek.
"like this," she says, holding the hammer above her head.
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157854
|
I had the idea for a pageant for my obedience school at spring graduation
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157865
|
in the deep dark of
a 2 a.m. atmosphere
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157834
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They were just boys, the Nazis I mean, young in their twenties, not much older than my brother Cyril.
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1578188
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Jesus is for sale. But he’s heavy.
|
1577710
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From room to room, neither closet nor drawer contained any remnant of pleasant memory.
|
157744
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The man wore a bowler hat and stood on an open patch of grass, with a pyramid-shaped stack of baseballs at his feet.
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1577103
|
Palms planted firmly against his temples, Travis paced the room like a caged animal. Giant black bats screeched in his brain, their pointy wings scraping at the edges of his cranium.
|
157732
|
Somniloquies rise like the drowned . . .
|
157787
|
I supposed reluctantly that Princeton is soft as Macalester College is soft. A person could die just for having attended U.W.-Madison or Yale.
|
157774
|
Mythical Itch and the Unicorns
Working Late
Jacuzzi Floozy
One Erection
Diego Rivera’s Poncho
Frieda’s Moustache
Avalanche
Babushka Dolls
Photographic Mammary
Drool
Sir Gruntsalot
Uber Rubber
Iota Pie
Elder Geese
Ladylike
Rud
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1577129
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anxiety
said Kierkegaard
is the dizziness
of freedom
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157700
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Mint upon my palate, I rub sleep infused eyes and crawl under the covers. Oh blessed sleep, please descend upon this body and transverse this fatigue. Eyes closed, bring a wavering blackness upon subtle lids. The conversation begins…
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157732
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His academic nightmare is set in an examination hall, where the student takes a seat at a folding table in the center of the room.
|
157788
|
My favorite lie is that he'd escaped the South Tower before it collapsed. Smoke inhalation erased his way home. Mine's better than mother's version: a stranger hurled herself onto him. The truth is when they stopped search and rescue, mother told father, Go. Even dead, his…
|
157754
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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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157776
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will we begin again?We are a wheelFirst touchfirst kissfirst heatThey fade, disappear, come back again.Spokes in our wheel.When again shall we begin again?I hold you and feel myself spincaught in the whirlwind of thrill -the world, saturated with your scent.We hold each…
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157711
|
children love to push the gas up and down my limbs
|
157687
|
First he wrote it in wet cement at the intersection:
“Tad Loves Kimberley,”
with a big heart around it.
He was real proud, you could see.
But then later on that year, the graffiti began
appearing everywhere, on all the store walls:
“Kimberle
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157661
|
Mr. Wazzeldot has seven legs. He lives very comfortably. He likes to sit by the fire. There's a large cushion for a chair, and in the evenings, he sips his Bloody Marys. I know because I visit him…
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157694
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Later, when she said she'd had miscarriages, I should have put it all together.
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